Friendship and Love
by hermysnape
Summary: After the war and Voldemort was dead, Hermione had to choose between love and friendship. Which one would be her choice? What did Snape have to say about it? This fic is rate PG13 at Ashwinder but here I thought it's better R, don't want to be shoved :
1. Chapter One

**Friendship and Love**  
**  
****Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Harry Potter world but thanks to JKR who have created such a wonderful world.  
  
**Author's note:** Many thanks to my beta, Wonk and Nakhash, who had done a very good job in beta-read.

I look into your eyes,  
There, I see your smile  
So bright, so warm  
That it melts my heart...  
  
I listen to your voice  
Pouring your love into my soul  
Bringing hope, bringing life  
In the middle of the night to a broken man....  
  
It was finished at last. Tonight was a night for celebration because finally there was no more Dark Lord, no more Death Eaters. The Wizarding World was safe forever because of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, although it was, in fact, many people who participated in the Dark Lord's second and final downfall, such as his two best friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix, especially Severus Snape, the spy. But the Wizarding community tended to think it was Potter, alone, who was their hero. 'Well, let them think what they wish as long as one person is aware of all I've done,' thought Snape, as he sat alone in his living room.  
  
The war had ended when the-Boy-Who-Lived plunged a silver sword, soaked with poison, in Lord Voldemort's chest. Before that, the Wizarding World was engulfed in the hot flames of war against Voldemort and his followers. Their targets were varied and unpredictable, from Muggles and Mudbloods to even members of Pureblood families who refused to join his cause. The Ministry of Magic was worse than useless in opposing him and had made itself a vulnerable target.  
  
Between the incompetent Minister and Lucius Malfoy's political intrigues the MOM had slipped into chaos. There had been at least three attacks from Voldemort and his Death Eaters within its very walls, seemingly aided by covert supporters of the Dark Lord among the Ministry's own employees.  
  
No one could be trusted any longer. Even some among the Aurors had joined the Death Eaters and cruelly tortured and murdered the very innocents they had been charged to protect.  
  
The only safe places were Hogwarts and the Order's headquarters. Most students stayed at school during Christmas break and learned how to fight. The families of the students who were likely to become targets were placed under the protection of Order members. Some had even gone into hiding with the use of the Fidelius Charm.  
  
Harry Potter and his two friends were requested to remain at either Hogwarts or 12 Grimmauld Place and had shuttled between the two locations for over a year and a half. Albus Dumbledore had trained Potter himself to fight. Severus Snape considered it the stupidest act he'd ever been witness to, teaching a mere child, regardless of some prophecy, to defeat the darkest wizard known. Snape had told Dumbledore not to rely solely on the boy, but the elder wizard believed too strongly in the prophecy to consider any other options or replacements.  
  
Snape was still not convinced by Dumbledore's decision but he made no further comments. Anything more might be interpreted as truly caring about what might happen to The-Boy-Who-Lived, and the last thing he wanted was to be perceived as possessing that human weakness. Besides, if he tried to poke his nose deeper into that business, Dumbledore would suggest that he work with the boy to vanquish Voldemort. The best way to steer clear of involvement was to mind his own business and play his assigned role in the war, nothing more, nothing less.  
  
Then one night, that fateful night, everything changed. It was because of her and her alone that he, along with the whole Wizarding World, had survived. But no one else knew.  
  
She had come to him. She said Potter would not win the war, let alone survive it, without his help. He had laughed at her; at her stupidity and optimistic belief that he could or would help Potter in his fight against Voldemort. But God! That girl was determined. She wouldn't take no for an answer or abandon that ridiculous idea; she came to his quarters every night. Even when he didn't let her in she would stand there, outside his rooms.  
  
For more than a week she had remained. He began wondering what it was that made her so determined. Maybe friendship really was the most glorious thing in the world...or was she in love with Potter? He had snorted at that. Yes, that was likely, since the girl seemed to be found with the boy at all times. Snape wasn't blind or daft. He knew, if not in detail, at least the broad outline of things she had done for Potter throughout her previous six years at Hogwarts, including the time that she had lit his robes afire.  
  
So, the girl was in love with Potter, he surmised, and feared that he would die in the war. Therefore she came up with the idea of him seconding Potter in the duel with Voldemort. No, he had laughed bitterly, Severus Snape was a heartless man. He didn't subscribe to such feelings, nor did he care if Potter died at the hands of Voldemort without leaving so much as a sliver of bone for his funeral. He had told himself that and refused to talk to the girl.  
  
Another week passed and she was still haunting his doorway every night until nearly curfew, when she finally went back to her own room (she was still strict and respectful when it came to rules).  
  
As much as it pained him to admit, the girl truly intrigued him. Her determination and bravery was admirable, and neither his coolness nor his rudeness could intimidate her.  
  
Never before in his life had someone, let alone a student, stood up to him as she had. Finally, he relented. He told himself it was because he was tired of her rapping at his door every night. But deep down inside, now that he had agreed to teach Potter the art of fighting and to stand by him in battle, he knew that she had won over his indifferent heart. More over, he had even asked her to assist him with the potions he was brewing for the war.  
  
Snape had cursed himself for doing so, but soon he found reason to be glad that he had asked for her assistance. The potions were complex and too many for him to brew alone with all the other duties he had already on his hands, and the girl proved that she was a very capable lab partner. He soon found himself enjoying her company and their conversation during breaks.  
  
They went from teacher-student relationship to partnership, then to friendship, and to the most unlikely relationship that Snape never dreamt of: lovers.  
  
He found that she had much in common with him. They both were lonely; if not for that Potter boy he thought she would never have had any friends at all. They loved reading and learning. She was nearly as good as he in potions and they had had many interesting conversations.  
  
He found himself looking forward to their evening time together. They spent that time brewing potions, searching for new ways to help in battle, discussing their work, and making love. He couldn't believe he had fallen in love with the girl and, much more, was in disbelief that she had returned his feelings.  
  
He remembered her smile, her scent, her taste, quite clearly, even though they hadn't met for almost a month. I love you was a phrase they told each other again and again during the times they were together. She would spend the evening with him, but she always refused to stay the night. She said she had to go back to her room. He begged her again and again to stay with him or to at least give him a reason why. She finally gave in and told him the truth. She had to go back to her room because Potter needed her support when he got returned from his nightly training sessions, always lasting until midnight, with Dumbledore.  
  
At the time, they were curled on the couch in his living room. She rested her head on his chest and said those words without looking at him, not knowing that he was staring at her, angry and jealous. When she was aware of his regard she looked up and burst into a fit of laugher.  
  
"What is so funny, Miss Granger?" he had said in his best Professor Snape voice. She stopped giggling and moved to kneel in front of him. She cupped his face in her soft, small hands. Her eyes locked with his. Snape felt his heart beating faster than usual, wanting to swoop down and make love to her until the end of the world. Then she said softly yet clearly, "Severus, I love you. I'm yours- yours alone." And her lips caught his. They poured out their love for each other with a thousand passionate kisses.  
  
He never doubted her. He knew he was her first and only one, but his possessiveness didn't allow him to let her near other men. She was his. She must be his, and would be his only.  
  
The final battle had come and called for her to leave him to join her friends in fighting. He had begged her to stay behind and told her that he would do whatever he could to protect Potter, just for her to be safe. He couldn't bear the idea of her being injured or, perhaps, even die, but she refused and said firmly, "I will not stay behind when my friends and my love are fighting in the war." Then she made him promise her to stay alive and to meet her after the war. He promised her, even though he was not sure if he would survive or not, but for the first time in his life he felt the passion to live on. They kissed and turned away to follow their own paths of duties.  
  
Snape was pulled out of his train of thought by a soft knock on the door that he knew quite well. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he walked to the door. Opening it, he came face to face with the angel of his mind, his love.  
  
She was beautiful in sky blue satin robes, her hair falling loosely down her back. Snape crushed her in a tight embrace; she hugged him back and buried her face in his broad, comfortable chest. They turned to enter his rooms. Snape locked the door and cast a silencing charm. Their lips met again, no word was exchanged between them but they knew how much they loved and missed one another.  
  
He couldn't stop kissing her even when he felt she was no longer responding to him but was trying to say something that sounded like his name.  
  
"Shh...love," he said and trailed kisses along her neck and exposed shoulder.  
  
"Severus..." she said, half-moaning, half complaining. Then he became forceful. His kisses became more and more passionate and she continued calling his name and pushing him away.  
  
"Severus, Severus..."  
  
He kissed her neck.  
  
"Severus..."  
  
His hands roamed on her back.  
  
"Se...Severus..."  
  
He kissed his way to her breasts.  
  
"Professor Snape!"  
  
He stopped.

I look into your eyes,  
Where does that come from?  
You sadness, how did it steal her smile?  
Give back her smile, or my heart will start to freeze again...  
  
I listen to your voice  
Still saying you love me  
But it's just not the same  
You break my heart with those words...  
  
They stood staring at each other. She appeared to be on the verge of tears and angry at the same time. He was confused and hurt. Her face fell into sadness and suddenly she looked so tired and weary. He panicked at the sight of tears falling down her cheeks.  
  
"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked and hugged her comfortingly in his arms. She cried into his shoulder.  
  
He held her in his arm and she sobbed. Time passed; she quieted down. Finally she looked up at him, her eyes were bloodshot.  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
And so they talked.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" bellowed Snape.  
  
"Severus, he didn't know about us," said Hermione, trying to calm him down.  
  
"I won't let him lay a hand on you, Hermione," he said firmly, holding Hermione tightly in his arms as though fearing she would disappear if he loosened his embrace.  
  
"But I have to, Severus," pleaded Hermione, "I have to help him get through his demons. He will never live in peace if I don't help him. He needs me."  
  
"I need you too, Hermione." He interjected. "I need you more than anything in the world. I love you." He placed a kiss on her forehead.  
  
Hermione sighed, "I love you too, Severus, but Harry needs me."  
  
"He always did, didn't he?" He was angry now and stood up, glowering at Hermione. "Why has he always needed you? Why in the hell have you had to stand by his side all this time?"  
  
"The war is over now." He softened a bit at the terrified look on Hermione's face. "Why can't we be together? Wasn't it the reason we struggled to fight the Dark Lord?"  
  
"I don't know, Severus," she said, trembling slightly as tears filling her eyes and threatening to fall again. "He is my friend, my best friend, and I can't bear the sight of him drowning himself in a hopeless life."  
  
"But you can stand seeing me broken-hearted?" Snape said bitterly. "You said you loved me. Was it just a way to get me to agree to help Potter? Were you using me, Hermione?"  
  
"No!" cried Hermione, tears starting to felt down her cheeks again. It broke her heart hearing him use that hopeless tone. She tried to hug him but he refused to let her come near him. "Severus, I've never used you and I never will. I love you."  
  
"Then you won't leave me, will you?" asked Snape, a small glow of hope shining in his eyes. "Please say you won't leave me, Hermione. Say you will be mine forever."  
  
Hermione shook her head, "I can't. I'm sorry, Severus."  
  
Snape slumped back into his armchair. There was nothing he could do, nor did he want to. Life without her was not a life. Hermione walked up to him. She kissed his lips one last time before walking back to the door. She held the handle, tightly closing her eyes and praying for the courage to step on the path she had chosen. With one last glance at her beloved she closed the door behind her, missing a soft whisper of, "I love you, Hermione."  
  
Finally, she was out of his room, out of his life, and he let her go. He let her go without trying to do anything, just sat there, watching her leave him forever.  
  
I watch you walk away  
I know you don't want to  
I know I don't want you to  
I do nothing...

_**Review...?**_


	2. Chapter Two

**Friendship and Love****  
  
****Chapter 2**  
  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Harry Potter world but thanks to JKR who have created such a wonderful world.  
  
**Author's note:** First of all I want you to know that my intention is to make it a one-shot but there has just so much answers to make so I decide on epilogue but, again, epilogue didn't seem to fit with it at all so here you go another chapter and it won't be a long story I assure you.  
  
Many thanks to my beta, Nakhash, who has not only been a wonderful beta-reader but a wonderful researcher also. The spell in this chapter is hers. Thanks to all of you who read and review.

OOO  
  
"Harry? Harry!"  
  
The man with messy raven-black hair bolted upright in his bed at the sound of his name. His face, as white as paper, glistened with sweat. His green eyes were fearful and unfocused. He looked around, frightened, and his body twitched in agony as if he was under the Cruciatus Curse.  
  
"Harry? Calm down, everything is all right," said a woman in a light blue bathrobe, her hair bushy and tangled from her sleep. She tried to hug the man and calm him down with soothing words but he still looked terrified and kept muttering incoherently. She leaned over the bed, snatching a small vial from the nightstand, and pulled out the stopper.  
  
"Harry..." she said, trying to still him. "Harry, drink this."  
  
She forced him to drink from the vial. Once the potion got into his system, the man calmed down. He stopped fighting and muttering but his eyes were still fearful and glazed over. He leaned back in bed and stared at the ceiling; soon his body relaxed and his eyes were more focused. The woman sat on the edge of the bed. She stared out of a small window, unseeing; it was still dark outside.  
  
She sighed and turned to Harry saying wearily, "It's been seven years now, why can't you just forget?"  
  
"I can't, Hermione," Harry answered weakly, "I try but I can't. They're in my head, in every inch of my living being."  
  
Hermione let out another deep sigh but didn't say anything. Harry went on, "I'm being selfish asking you to be with me, Hermione. I know I am. I would rather die than continue living like this, drowning both of us in my pain. I'm so sorry, Hermione."  
  
"Don't be, please." Hermione closed her eyes. A single teardrop slid down her cheek. Angrily she brushed it away. She tried to fight back, not wanting to break into hysterical sobs. "I have been doing everything just for you to find some peace, Harry, so please don't make me feel like my time was wasted." She paused and than said more firmly, "And don't ever think about killing yourself, Harry."  
  
Harry's head snapped up. He was surprised that she knew what he was thinking.  
  
"I know that you have been thinking about it for a while now," stated Hermione, "but please don't think that's the solution. Death may end your conscious pain but your soul will not be in peace and never will be, Harry. Not that way." She took another deep breath. She was tired, more than tired; no one knew how old and hopeless she felt inside.  
  
Harry sat still, his head in his hands. Hermione stole a glance at him. He didn't deserve this. He should be happy after everything he had been through. He should have whatever his heart yearned for after all the years he sacrificed. But no one had, it was the war that ate every little bit of his youth, his happiness, and his spirit and still wanted to take his very life.  
  
"Get some sleep," said Hermione, "tomorrow we will go to Africa. I have done some research and talked to a professor there, he said he may be able to help."  
  
"It's no use, Hermione," Harry said, shaking his head slowly.  
  
"We'll never know if we don't try," Hermione interrupted with a tone of finality.  
  
Harry sighed and shrank back into his bed. He soon fell asleep under the power of a mix of Dreamless Sleep potion and the Draught of Peace.  
  
Hermione was still sitting on the bed. She looked at the dark night outside the window. A bright star was rising just above the windowsill but, in fact, it was billions of miles away. Her thoughts wandered again for the thousandth time over the past seven years.  
  
First Cedric, then Sirius, then Bill and Charlie and Mr. Weasley. The war raged even hotter at the end of their seventh year. Their classmates fought and died one after another and then - Ron died. Ronald Weasley was a hero and a faithful friend. Before anyone had a chance to stop him, he had jumped in front of Harry, blocking Voldemort's killing curse.  
  
Harry had witnessed each death and his nightmares were endless. The war may have finished but the fighting in his mind would never stop and sometimes Hermione wondered bitterly how Harry remained sane.  
  
_/Flashback/__  
  
__Voldemort stood behind the two persons who were dueling, Harry and Bellatrix Lestrange. Suddenly, he pointed his wand at Harry's back, an evil grin on his face.__  
  
__"This is the end, Potter! Pray for your soul!" and he shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"__  
  
__Ron lunged at Harry, his large form blocking the curse. He fell back, lifeless. Hermione rushed to Ron's side and while everyone looked on, stunned, Harry, angrily threw away his wand and lunged at Voldemort. The Dark Lord was not expecting a physical attack. When Harry backed away from Voldemort's lifeless form, a sword remained planted in the dead man's chest.__  
  
__/End Flashback/_  
  
For seven years she had done everything she could to help wash away the pain, guilt, and hopelessness from his life but she was defeated; nothing she did could lighten the darkness of his world, nothing she sacrificed gave him anything back.  
  
They had traveled to various parts of the world in the hopes that a change of environment could help in healing the wounds but no, it made no difference where they went, the war's shadow continued to follow them, especially Harry.  
  
After Ron died, Harry never wanted to talk to anyone, not even Dumbledore. He hadn't joined them in celebrating the end of the war. He hadn't wanted to meet with them at all. He hadn't wanted to force the tight, sharp smile that sliced his heart into pieces. He hadn't wanted to be with anyone but her. She was the only person he felt comfortable talking to, who could share all his emotions. It was not that he loved her more than as a friend but she was the _only_ friend he had. She was the last person still close to him. If she didn't help him, there was no one else he could turn to, and Hermione could not and would not leave her friend under such conditions.  
  
She would cry at night when she missed Severus the most. She felt guilty when thinking of his loneliness. Her heart ached knowing how difficult his life must be without her, knowing the pain she felt without him. But she couldn't allow herself to regret the choice she made.  
  
As difficult as it was, she could bear the guilt of leaving Severus. She knew if she chose to stay with him and left Harry alone, she would never be able to forgive herself. She was Severus's light but he was strong enough to survive without her. Harry was barely surviving even with her in his life. She felt that giving in to her own selfish wants and needs would be evil in some way. The darkness would extinguish her ability to be a light to anyone and the person she was inside would be irrevocably changed. She would dwell within the guilt and sin of such a choice and it would taint her love for Severus. If they were to be together, she wanted their life to be open and free of misery and regret. It was her mission to accomplish before she allowed herself to start her new life.  
  
No, she didn't regret her choice and deep inside her heart a slight ray of hope still lingered that one day, Harry would be able to forget his demons and start his life anew, and she would be able to return to her love, though she doubted he would have her again after what she had done to him. At this thought Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken. What if he had found someone else already? What if he didn't want her anymore?  
  
Hermione sighed once more. Tomorrow they would go to Africa, their last chance at finding peace after seven years of traveling. Until then she wouldn't think of the future.  
  
The first light from the sun woke Hermione. She got Harry up and they prepared to take their leave. Nine o'clock in the morning found them at the Portkey station. They took a Portkey to Africa and were greeted by an old wizard dressed in dark gray robes and rectangular glasses. His hair and beard were as white as the first snow in winter. He was smiling at them warmly.  
  
"Good morning, Professor Akin Vakaga," said Hermione, offering her hand.  
  
The professor returned her greeting. "Good morning, Miss Granger." He took Hermione hand then turned to Harry, " Good morning, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Good morning," Harry replied, as he shook hands with the other man.  
  
Professor Vakaga escorted them to a cottage; Hermione noticed there weren't any other houses nearby.  
  
They sat at a round table made of African mahogany. Hermione took a sip from the cup she had received from the professor before she asked, "Professor Vakaga, when can we go there?"  
  
"Miss Granger," said the professor seriously, "I want you to think it over before deciding to try."  
  
"I have thought about it since my first research and I know my answer is still the same," Hermione answered firmly.  
  
"Hermione," Harry said, putting his hand on Hermione's shoulder, "you've sacrificed a lot for me already. I don't want you to force yourself to lose your memories for me."  
  
She turned to him, her eyes showed her unwavering decision, "I won't change my mind, Harry, I have told you from the day we first left England."  
  
Harry nodded and Hermione saw he was cursing himself again. She patted him on the back. "Harry, I may be doing this to help you but I want you to know that I'm also helping myself, so don't feel that you owe me something."  
  
Harry looked up; questions in his eyes, but Hermione shook her head and said quietly, "One day you will know. So when will we start, professor?" asked Hermione, turning to Professor Vakaga.  
  
"Well, if your mind is made up, we will start out tomorrow," replied the old professor.  
  
The next day, the three of them made their way into the forest. They walked up a hill until reaching a cave.  
  
"Here it is," said Professor Vakaga. "It's called Niks. Not many people use it now," he told them.  
  
They entered the cave. It was rather small compared to the mountain itself. There were some trees at the corner of the cave covered in liana and long grasses grew on the walls of the cave and on the ground. It looked as if it had been abandoned for a long time, which was not far from the truth. There was a pool in the middle of the cave floor. It was constructed of black stone with some slight piece of silvery stone on the top layer. The pool was full of water colored a mixture of mud-brown and silver.  
  
Hermione surveyed the pool closely, her brow knitted, as she asked the professor, apprehensively, "Professor Vakaga, may I ask if this is the original color?" She motioned at the water in the pool.  
  
The old professor chuckled, "Do not worry, my dear Miss Granger. It's been this color ever since I have first visited it and my old book did state this to be its appearance. So no worries."  
  
Hermione smiled slightly, "I'm just curious, that's all."  
  
Harry stepped closer to the pool. "It reminds me of a Pensieve," he stated simply.  
  
"Eh- yes, it's similar..." replied the elder wizard thoughtfully.  
  
"But there is a price for the use," Hermione interrupted. Her voice sounded distant, causing Harry to look at her.  
  
"You ok, 'Mione?" he asked, concern in his voice.  
  
"I'm fine, Harry. Can we start now?" she asked directly to Professor Vakaga.  
  
"If you're both ready," said professor Vakaga.  
  
"We're ready," they both said at the same time.  
  
Professor Vakaga started to walk around the pool slowly. "More than a thousand years ago this place was used by warriors who wanted to forget some painful memory of their war," the old professor explained. "It has its own specialty, memories that have been put in here will not be completely deleted but the feeling it causes will not be felt anymore." He motioned for Hermione and Harry to sit on the rocks at the edge of the pool opposite each other. He went on, "Though, as Miss Granger correctly said, a price must be paid for doing so."  
  
He stopped walking and stood between them. "This is the last chance for you two, are you willing to continue?" They nodded mutely and pulled out their wands and dipped them in the water. "Mr. Potter, concentrate on your unwanted memories," Professor Vakaga instructed. "Miss Granger, you cannot choose, just try to clear your mind and the pool will choose the suitable memories to conquer Mr. Potter's."  
  
Hermione did as she was told. She could see Harry was doing the same. His brows creased tightly together in concentration. Soon Hermione felt a cold pressure rush pass her and Harry's memories floated before her eyes.  
  
Cedric's body was clutched in Harry's arms as he tried to reach the Portkey. Sirius fell into the veil. Green light shot from a faceless Death Eater's wand hitting Bill Weasley as he fell back. Charlie and Arthur Weasley surrounded by Dementors. Harry dueled with Voldemort as Bellatrix Lestrange tortured Ron under the Cruciatus Curse. A lot of people died in the Final War. Their classmates: Dean, Seamus, Parvati, and Luna... Hermione closed her eyes, willing the images out of her mind but they were still there, flashing before her like a film. Finally Ron's lifeless body dropped before Harry and Harry lunged at Voldemort. For a brief moment her vision went black then her own memories appeared.  
  
An eleven-year-old Hermione received her letter from Hogwarts. Hermione, Harry and Ron the night after the Halloween incident in their first year. The feast at the end of their second year. Hermione got her prefect badge. Hermione got her O.W.L results. The images started swirling faster. Hermione stood in front of professor Snape's office. They sat on the coach in Snape's living room. They kissed passionately in front of the fireplace. They made love for the first time. Hermione whimpered softly and tears that had already been forming in her eyes started falling freely. She closed her eyes even tighter.  
  
"Hermione?" she heard Harry's voice speaking to her. He sounded shocked and concerned. Everything started swirling faster and faster until she was consumed in blackness. She heard Professor Vakaga invoke the spell in a high, powerful voice, "Ghamu-anua furaha-pokea!" Then there was an explosion, and the last thing Hermione saw was Severus's face swirling away from before her eyes as she lost consciousness.

OOO  
  
**A/N: "Ghamu-anua furaha-pokea"** is Swahili, means: "Sorrow-remove, Happiness-replace" (Nakhash got it though both she and I are not specialist in Swahili so if there is any mistake, please don't mind).  
  
**Review...?**


	3. Chapter Three

**Friendship and Love** Chapter 3 

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Harry Potter world but thanks to JKR who have created such a wonderful world.

**A/N:** First I want to thank my beta, Nakhash. She is wonderful! Then my thanks to you all who read and review and flame :)

On to the story...

ZzozZ

Severus Snape was strolling along a deserted corridor one evening. He was in a foul mood; not that he had ever been in any other mood, at least not for the last seven years.

The new term would start next week. The students, or rather dunderheads, would be arriving one day before the term started and he had to attend a staff meeting tomorrow. This meant one hour of listening to Dumbledore talk about Inter-house friendship twaddle. He pinched the bridge of his nose and snorted inwardly. _'Does he really think it works?' _he thought to himself, mockingly.

From the time he became Headmaster, Dumbledore never lost a chance to promote his Inter-house friendship sentiment; Slytherins and Gryffindors were fated to be enemies, this was a fact.

'_Is it, Severus, old boy?'_ The question popped into his head without warning, catching Severus off guard. He scolded, _'It is!'_

If any student had happened to walk by, he or she would have been sure to floo directly to St. Mungo's after witnessing Severus Snape, Potions Master, the most hated professor in Hogwarts, talking to himself. Fortunately, it was still summer vacation and there were no students around.

Arriving in his dungeon, Snape unlocked the door with a wave of his wand, walked in, and warded his door. Though it was not likely anyone would be coming to disturb him, he still protected his quarters carefully. He walked to the end of the office, where he disappeared into a portrait of a huge green snake leading to his living room. A cold sensation of loneliness surrounded his entire body; it happened every time he stepped into his personal chambers. Without bothering to change, he Accio-ed a bottle of Fire Whiskey along with a shot glass and took his seat in his armchair near the fireplace; the fire did nothing to warm his spirits. He started pouring the Fire Whiskey into his glass.

Sipping the alcohol and staring at the couch across from him, for the millionth time he let his thoughts wander to the object of his living a miserable life; of course, it was she. As much as he hated to admit it, these seven years did nothing to lessen his feelings for her. From the day she left his room, his heart seemed to return to its previously frozen state but it didn't die, because deep down at the bottom of his soul burned a tiny light, which he hoped one day would burn into a flame and melt his stone-cold heart. But, Snape knew better than to rely on hope.

When finally, Dumbledore had agreed to give him his long-time desired position, to everyone's surprise, Snape turned him down. He was still passionate for the Dark Arts and for the job, but he wouldn't accept. He would still sneer at every new professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts but he wouldn't apply for the job himself. As to why, the answer was simple; he didn't want to leave his dungeon. But was it really that simple? Of course, it was, he would say. Snape always gave this answer to everyone, even himself. The dungeon was his home for 25 years; he had become attached to it and didn't want to leave now. He had tried to convince himself to believe in this reasoning, but he knew it was no use; his wrenched heart knew it was not true. She was the reason he didn't accept the position. She was the reason he wouldn't leave his dungeon.

Every corner of his room was filled with the memories of her. Everything around him reminded him of her: her scent, her smile, her voice, her face, her very being and every movement. How could he live without her? He couldn't; he merely existed.

He had once tried to stay away from the dungeon by taking Minerva and Dumbledore's advice to spend a summer on an island off the French coast, hoping that being away from everything that reminded him of her would help him to forget. How wrong he was! That summer turned out to be the worst time in his life. He couldn't sleep nor could he eat. On the second night of his vacation, frustrated, he had flooed back to Hogwarts, where he could at least breathe the scent of her and feel the things she had touched. Since then, he told himself to forget about leaving the dungeon again.

Now, as he stared at the couch, a picture appeared before his eyes. _They were sitting on a couch, this couch, Hermione on his lap, her back resting against his stomach and his hands wrapped possessively around her waist. Her dark brown hair flickered in the firelight like the golden strings of a goddess' harp. He inhaled her sweet scent deeply; slowly, he nuzzled the hollow of her neck. She dropped her head back, giving him further access. He kissed his way to her collarbone and back to the top of her neck, nibbling gently on her earlobe, drawing a moan from her slightly parted lips. He planted a kiss on her check and claimed her mouth. She was half turned toward him, her hands buried in his hair. Their kiss was tender and teasing at first, but soon it became fiery with a passion, which left them both breathless. _

"_I love you," she whispered breathlessly. Her eyes, soft, warm, and full of love, locked with his, and he was drawn down a million miles deep, into those two beautiful pools._

"_I love you more than anything," he whispered back huskily, before capturing her mouth in another fiery kiss._

'CRASH!' Snape threw his shot glass into the fireplace. The glass shattered and the alcohol caught fire, burning a bright blue. The vivid images died away, leaving a shaken Snape breathing heavily.

These seven years had been sheer torture for him. Outside of this room, to the whole school and the Wizarding community, he was still Severus Snape, the heartless Potions Master who would never change; if they only knew how he was feeling right now, what he had felt ever since she had left.

He hated her; yes. He was angry with her; that was true. He loved her; it was an undeniable fact. How he hated himself for being so powerless over his own heart. How he hated himself for not _wanting_ to forget her. He could not even blame her for all that had happened. She had the right to choose. She was young, intelligent, and beautiful. She deserved more; who was he to stop her? But, didn't he deserve at least some happiness? Snape laughed derisively. '_You don't deserve anything, Snape,' s_aid a nasty voice in his head, _'all you have succeeded in doing is to pay for your sins. You don't deserve anything other than your now miserable life._

Furiously, Snape grabbed the bottle of Fire Whiskey on the table and gulped down the remaining liquid. Throwing the empty bottle away, he mindlessly Accio-ed another one, drinking himself into a restless night of sleep.

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The first sunlight in the morning shoved itself into the dungeon through an enchanted window, dancing gleefully on the face of a dark figure slumbering on the floor, his upper body resting against the couch, his face half covered by his unruly black hair.

He stirred and frowned as a ray of sunlight shown brightly into his half-opened eyes. He blinked a few times before fully opening them; but when he tried to pull himself up, he felt a sharp pain in his head. '_Must be that damn Fire Whiskey, again,' _he thought sorely. Gritting his teeth, he walked slowly to his bathroom where a vial of Hang-Over Potion was waiting for him.

One hour later, he was bathed and dressed, though his head still hurt like hell. He made his way to Dumbledore's office to attend the damn staff meeting and meet yet another new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor he knew he already despised.

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He was standing in front of the Headmaster's office when he heard laughter coming from inside. '_So, this new professor has already gained favor from the others?' _he thought with disgust and pushed open the door... All sound stopped at the sight of him; he smirked and then ran his eyes along the row of seated professors until he met a pair of dark brown eyes. He was speechless... it was her.

"Ah, Severus! Take a seat; take a seat. We were waiting for you," said Dumbledore, cheerfully.

Snape regained his composure and stalked to his traditional seat in a dark corner of the room, which was, fortuitously, opposite to hers. First, he noticed, she was taller than the last time he had seen her. Her body had filled out over the last seven years, making her look even more gorgeous. Her hair was still bushy, but it was longer and, with it tied back in a scarf, it looked wavier. She looked respectably feminine in her long, dark gray robe. The one thing that hadn't changed about her was her eyes, those dark brown eyes that sparkled softly. The eyes he had dreamt of every night were staring back at him. There was something in them that told him she was nervous, if not frightened. Perhaps it was something in his eyes that caused it. He felt darkly satisfied by the thought.

"Ahem... ahem," Dumbledore cleared his throat, "now that Severus has finally decided to join us," he beamed at Snape's glare before continuing, "let us officially welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, Miss Hermione Granger!"

Hearing her name, Hermione broke their eye contact. She stood up, beaming at some of her former professors who had survived and were still teaching at Hogwarts, and some new professors she had just met a few minutes ago. In return, she received warm, encouraging smiles from all of them, except for professor Snape, who was wearing a cool expression and glaring at her peculiarly. Their eyes met for the second time and the smile slowly left her lips; the little spark her eyes held before also vanished. It was replaced with a cool blankness matching his own. She regarded him curtly, yet politely, before resuming her seat.

'_It's only Snape, after all, isn't it? The evil bastard. He's no longer your professor; don't let him bully you,' _Hermione told herself sternly, and then she smirked inwardly, _'he must be pissed now that I got his beloved job.'_

"Ahem! Ahem! Well then, the next topic is our Inter-House Friendship project!" Dumbledore announced delightedly, drawing a snort from Snape. Dumbledore, however, looked even more cheerful and he continued his speech as if he had not heard Snape.

Hermione smiled fondly at her former Headmaster and listened to him carefully as Snape continued to glare at her for the rest of the meeting. Hermione couldn't help glancing at him every now and then. She grew more and more uncomfortable with Snape's dark eyes on her. Finally, to Hermione's relief, Dumbledore ended the meeting by wishing them all good day.

"Hermione, you must be tired now," said Dumbledore kindly. "You might want to see your rooms and take a bath before lunch. I will get..."

"No worry, Albus!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed happily, "I will show Hermione her quarters."

Hermione smiled gratefully. She didn't quite remember all the passages around Hogwarts after seven years. She bid good-bye to Dumbledore and the other professors who were still engaged in their chatting. Hermione left the room with professor McGonagall beside her, feeling the same pair of eyes following her until the door closed behind her back.

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The Headmaster's office cleared fifteen minutes later, leaving Dumbledore and Snape alone. Sitting at his desk, Dumbledore offered Snape his favorite candy.

"I don't want that rubbish, Albus," he said coolly.

"Oh? So," asked Dumbledore, putting the tray back down, "what is it Severus? Do you want another vacation?"

Snape shot a deathly glare at the Headmaster before he replied, "Thank you, but no. I just want to ask you about your new professor."

"Miss Granger?" said Dumbledore, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "Ah, I see. You haven't thrown out any of your ill comments toward her at all; that's a surprise. But," he looked thoughtful, popping a sweet into his mouth, and added, more to himself than to Snape, "Miss Granger was an excellent student at school; I doubt if any of her professors disliked her."

'_If only you knew, Albus,' _Snape thought somberly. For the first time in his life he didn't know how to conduct himself. He didn't even know how he was feeling now that the object of his desire, his misery, had returned. Was he supposed to be angry with her for leaving him so long or was he supposed to make her understand that he was still painfully in love with her? His Slytherin mind told him to take his revenge on her, making her life as miserable as his own.

"Severus? What was your concern?"

Dumbledore's question cut into his train of thought. Fashioning his features back into the sneer of the cruel Potions Master, he said, sardonically, "I'm not concerned. I merely feel sick. After seven years I thought I was completely free of those pains in my ass."

"Don't be so touchy, Severus. Miss Granger is no longer your student. You don't have to teach her," said Dumbledore reasonably.

"Well, if she has learned to shut up," he blurted out. "Though I doubt I could stand that bloody Potter, even if he turned mute."

Snape closed his eyes and massaged his temples rapidly. It hadn't occurred to him until now, but the mere thought of Hermione and Potter together was enough to make his blood boil. He didn't know how he would react if he were to see the two of them together, intimate. Maybe he would do nothing; or maybe he would break Potter's neck right on the spot. He wasn't sure.

"Who told you Harry was here?"

Again, Dumbledore's voice pulled him out of his musing. He relaxed his fist; not realizing it had been clenched.

"I assumed," he answered impatiently.

Dumbledore smiled. "As much as I would love that, Harry is not here."

Snape's head snapped up to look at the elderly wizard and saw he was being truthful. He felt his heart skip a beat. '_Can this mean...?'_

"Why?" he asked, creasing his brows together.

Dumbledore looked out the window and tugged his beard slowly. "According to Hermione, Harry has met someone in Africa..."

Snape snorted loudly.

Dumbledore ignored him. He went on quietly. "He wants to get married and live there for the rest of his life," the headmaster finished with a sigh. He looked sad and old. The Potions Master remained still. His face showed no expression but inside he felt slightly hurt by the news.

"I think we'd better be off to the Great Hall now," said Dumbledore. "Everyone is probably

waiting for us, already."

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Without the four house tables, the Great Hall looked so empty. Hermione felt a flutter in her stomach. She was a little nervous. There were only two people at the table. _"I must be early_,' Hermione thought. Walking toward a round table standing in the middle of the hall, she took a seat next to professor Sprout who was talking to a handsome, young professor Hermione had seen in the meeting.

"Hello! Hermione!" Professor Sprout greeted her warmly.

"Hi!" Hermione greeted back, smiling. Catching the young professor gazing at her, she inclined her head and smiled at him.

"Oh, Hermione, this is Professor Cleaver, Roderick Cleaver, new professor for Arithmancy" Professor Sprout introduced, "and this is Professor Granger, you know her already?" the elder witch directed her question toward the young professor.

He nodded and said, smiling charmingly, "Yes, and I know that you were one of the brightest students Hogwarts has ever had."

Hermione blushed at the compliment, "Thank you."

"Why don't you and I swap chairs so you two can get to know each other better," Professor Sprout suggested. She didn't wait for Professor Cleaver to reply, but got up and ushered him to move to her chair.

Soon they were talking animatedly as the other professors started filling up the table. Hermione stopped only to greet each one when they came in. She was so fascinated in talking about new theories of Arithmancy. It was the first image that greeted Snape when he stepped in the Great Hall beside Dumbledore - Hermione laughing and talking with Cleaver, who was looking at her like she was a delicious dessert.

Snape balled his fists and gritted his teeth. He strode briskly to his seat at the left side of Dumbledore. The Headmaster called to start the meal and every one, excepting Snape, began serving themselves with food and chatting or joking delightedly. Snape continued to watch the two people in front of him talking and laughing; unaware of the death glare he was shooting them. This was going to be the longest lunch in the last decade for Snape.

Snape had stared at Hermione as she made her excuses to leave the lunch table. She hadn't even said good-bye to him; not that he cared if it had been another staff member, but this was Hermione. '_Yes? What about her?' _asked a voice in his head, endearingly. _'It was her and it's different,' _he answered to himself, once he got back to his cold dungeon. Even before they became lovers, Hermione had always been polite to him. '_Things can change in seven years, Severus,' _that voice said again, '_she might be moving on to someone else or she might be angry with you.'_

"Angry with me?!" he practically yelled, and threw himself on his couch. It should be he who was angry, not her. Who had been suffering all these years? Who had been living in hell for seven years? He wanted to shake her, to make her understand the pain that she had caused. An evil grin spread across his face. "Yes, that's what I will do," said Snape to himself, his voice echoing menacingly in his empty chambers.

ZzozZ

Hermione went back to her rooms after lunch to unpack her trunks and arrange her schedule. Tomorrow, she would start preparing her lesson plans; hopefully she would finish them before classes started. She wanted to be prepared for her first day. She didn't want anything to go wrong.

As she unpacked, she hummed softly to herself. Hermione was glad to be home; Hogwarts was technically her home now. She would be teaching in a few days. She would try her best to be a good teacher. Hermione promised herself. Her life finally could be at peace now. '_Even if you are living with that greasy git?' _a nasty voice said mockingly in her head. Hermione frowned as she stopped removing books from her trunk. _'Can't he be a little nice toward anyone?'_ Hermione quietly asked herself. _'Whatever, I won't let him ruin my life.' _she said firmly

ZzozZ

_Review...?_


	4. Chapter Four

** Chapter 4**

_ Disclaimer: Not mine, you know that quite well._

_A/N: Thanks to Nakhash, my wonderful beta. She makes this chapter readable. And thank you all readers and reviewers. I love every comment of yours and hope you continue to read and review. Now onto the story, enjoy!  
_

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The day had been uneventful as Hermione unpacked and made a quick tour around Hogwarts' grounds, late that evening, to rekindle her memories of the great castle. She didn't know how much time she spent wandering but it was fairly dark when she returned to the castle and dinner had already been served. Hermione went down to the kitchens. She had missed the place very much and the thought of the enthusiastic little house-elves made her heart jolt with excitement. How were they now? Were they still the same stubborn prats wanting to be slaves? At the back of her mind, she still harbored the desire to free them but she had learnt to keep her feeling in check long ago; she wouldn't do anything that caused chaos at Hogwarts, at least not now.

Hermione met the house-elves were busily preparing things after dinner; once they recognized her, they stilled their tasks and gathered around her, firing questions. She ended up eating her first dinner at Hogwarts in the kitchen.

It was almost 10 o'clock when Hermione bid goodbye to the house-elves. It was dark in the halls but she didn't light her wand. She felt her way to the marble staircases but when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she changed her mind. She decided to take a walk by the lake and went to the main entrance, pushing open the huge oak door just slightly, so she could walk out.

Outside, the moon rose fully in the endless black sky, accompanied by millions of stars. Hermione breathed in deeply, enjoying the sweetness of the cool night breeze. She strolled lazily to the lake and then along the shore, stopping only a few moments to admire the view around her and the twinkling stars above.

Feeling the wind started to blow a bit stronger, Hermione pulled her robe more tightly around herself. Even in summer, Scottish nights could be chilly. She took a seat on a rock, letting her gaze take in the view of the lake. Quite a few times, she saw fish pop up to the surface, leaving bubbles behind; Hermione gazed at them fascinated. _'What a wonderful place!' _Hermione sighed. She turned her gaze toward the castle. Under the moonlight, Hogwarts' looked even more beautiful, though so unreal; it seemed more like some enchanted castle in some fairy tale she had read as a little girl. Sometimes she just couldn't believe that magic really existed. It seemed more like a dream than truth. _'How could anything as big as this castle not be seen by Muggle eyes? And how could Muggles not be aware of such a big society of wizards?' _Hermione mused silently to herself. She had no idea She knew it was all magic but still, it was hard for her, someone who originally came from the mundane world, to believe that magic wasn't only found in books. Another gust of wind blew over her, making Hermione shiver visibly. She wrapped her arms around her middle.

A plopping sound echoed weakly through the open space. Hermione turned swiftly back toward the lake and saw a faint ripple on the water's surface; she smiled and continued gazing. Suddenly she felt eyes on her back; she whirled around quickly but there was nothing there except the ghostly shadows of the trees and the castle gleaming in the moonlight.

Hermione frowned, her eyes darting through the darkness; not a single object was moving, even the leaves on the trees barely rustled. Her eyes led the way in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Finally, her gaze rested on the barely visible shadow of Hagrid's hut, '_Hagrid's former hut,' _she corrected herself. She sighed once more. How could such a large man just disappear, vanishing into thin air?Hermione shook her head grimly as old memories resurfaced in her mind.

_The final battle, there was blood and bodies everywhere in Diagon Alley... _Hermione closed her eyes; she felt dizzy. _Her parents, blood dripping down her mother's face, her father seizing one of the Death Eaters as he pointed his wand at her mother... _Hermione buried her face in her hands, sobbing and shaking. Her body trembled violently as a range of emotions ran through her mind.

Hermione abruptly stood up and shook herself as if brushing the images away. "It must be that time, again," she muttered to herself, wiping away the tears. She straightened her robe, brushing off the dust. She tried to stop herself from trembling. '_It was only another flashback,' _she told herself, _'don't give in.' _Then she walked briskly back inside.

Tired and weary, she climbed the stairs to her private chambers, which was located near Gryffindor Tower, even though her classroom was on the first floor. She hurriedly took a hot bath to ease her sore muscles. Dressed in a white bathrobe, she climbed in her bed but instead of lying down, she sat crossed her legs while sitting on the gold and red bed covering. Closing her eyes, she took deep, regular breaths in and out, trying to clear her mind of any emotions. She stayed in that position for almost thirty minutes, then opening her eyes slowly, she stretched her relaxed muscles.

She crawled to the head of her bed where there was a small nightstand, matching the bed's old-fashioned style. She pulled open the top drawer and fished out a black wooden box, about six inches in size. Hermione clicked a small orange button at the front of the box and the cover flipped open, instantly revealing about a dozen small indentions in the thick wooden bottom. All were empty except for three, which contained tiny bottles; a thick green liquid could be seen through the glass.

Hermione eyed them painfully before removing one. She twirled the tiny bottle between her fingers; her face now wore a thoughtful expression. Zuri Ndoto Potion, a present from professor Vakaga. She had to drink the potion once or twice a week when the pressure inside her mind became greater than usual. It made her mind rest and lessened the severity of the bad dreams she usually had. To put it bluntly, the potion maintained her sanity; if not for it, she would go mad from the episodes in which her dark memories from the past decided to rush in on her all at once, a frequent occurrence. Hermione snorted derisively.

Since she had awakened from the deep sleep after the events at Niks, Hermione had tried to live her life as normally as possible. She could appear calm and cheerful to other people, especially those who knew her. But deep down, she was haunted, haunted by her memories. Sometimes she would sit alone on her bed, unable to sleep or not daring to sleep because of the memories of the war that usually began when she drifted off. It was a restless and distressing sleep; she almost gave up at times when it seemed too much to bear but her will to live was stronger. There seemed to be something, something that made her want to live. She was searching, she knew, though she didn't know what it was she was trying to find. When she had received Professor Dumbledore's letter, asking her to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, she was filled with hope. She didn't know why, but the very name Hogwarts sounded reassuring and something about it just drew her into coming back against Harry's begging and Professor Vakaga's advice to stay in Africa and let them help her fight her demons.

She had just taken some of the potion the day she left for Hogwarts, which meant only one day had passed since the last dose. _'Why did she need another one so soon? Maybe it was because she was so excited that she was back at Hogwarts, the pressure built up quicker than before.' _Hermione sighed and pulled open the stopper. She downed the potion in a quick gulp. The bittersweet liquid ran down her throat, leaving a faint scent on the tip of her tongue; Hermione grimaced. She hated the potion though she needed it - _she needed it._ There were only two more bottles; when the last bottle was drunk, she would have to brew another stock for herself from the recipe professor Vakaga had given her along with the potion.

Another sigh escaped her lips; Hermione put the empty bottle in the box and tossed the box back in the drawer with a loud 'clunk'. She hated to live on potions. She hated the empty feeling she was having now.

With a flick of her wand, she put out the candle on her nightstand. She crawled under the covers and lay still for a moment, gazing at the grayish ceiling of her room. 'What is missing?'she asked herself quietly. Maybe the missing piece was lost in the pool at Niks; she didn't know.

Severus Snape was in his private chambers once again, after escaping from the clutches of the headmaster at dinner. It was dark; the only light in the room came from his unattended fireplace. It barely showed the dark features of Severus Snape, sitting in his overstuffed armchair. His right hand was holding a glass of wine while the other lay unmoving on the armrest. He peered over the rim of his glass, looking at nothing, deep in thought.

_'She didn't show up for dinner,'_ he stated in his mind. He had had a disturbing feeling since she returned and it was just getting worse. Hermione was acting very strange, not that he cared, he told himself. He was just curious that was all.

_ 'She was acting as though nothing had ever happened,' _a voice in his mind chipped in. _'I know, I noticed.' _He sighed; it was getting very frustrating now. He wanted very much to confront her and ask her directly what had happened but since she returned, he hadn't even said a word to her, which made the prospect of holding a conversation with her sound highly unlikely. Besides, his Slytherin pride wouldn't allow him to lower himself to talk to her first. He had to come up with a plan to discover what was going on.

"She might just be pretending; who would have guessed?" he said aloud, his voice thick with bitterness and disgust. His grip on the glass tightened. He downed the rest of his wine then stole a glance at a grandfather clock hanging on the wall. Nine o'clock. He put the empty glass down beside the wine bottle on the table and stood up. Retrieving his cloak from the couch, he left his rooms for night duty, even though it was summer.

It was quiet and even darker outside his rooms, though he found his way easily from corridor to corridor. He went straight to the main staircase; it was more out of habit than any actual purpose, since it was a favorite place for students to sneak out at nighttime.

He strolled back and forth in the shadows of the corridor but it was damn quiet. Finishing his second rounds of the Astronomy Tower, Snape became bored, no sneaking students to catch and no house points to deduct. He climbed down to the ground floor and strode forward to the front door, slightly surprised to find the door ajar. He slipped through cautiously. His right hand rested on the wand in his pocket. Even though the war had ended so long ago, his instincts had not died. He was still Severus Snape: spy, former Death Eater, Hogwarts' Potion master, and greasy git.

He walked carefully and soundlessly toward a tall tree. He leaned his back against it and looked around. _'Who had opened the door?' _He frowned. His eyes caught sight of something moving near the lake. He tightened his grip on his wand and took a few steps nearer…a figure. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the figure by the lake, a woman, he could tell by the long, waving hair. His frowned deepened as he felt a jolt of familiarity run up his spine. Without warning, the woman turned around, causing Snape to jump quickly behind a tree at his left side. He stole a glance from his hiding place; _it's her! _

He was about a hundred meters away from her. He knew from the clothes he was wearing it would be hard to be notice but he didn't want to risk it so he stood still, allowing a few minutes to pass before daring a move. Still gripping his wand, he stuck his head out a little, using his long black hair as a curtain to conceal his pale white face. He saw her sitting on a rock, her long, brown, curly hair blowing lightly in the wind. She shivered and hugged herself. "Silly girl! Why doesn't she just cast a warming charm?"he muttered under his breath. _'You said you don't care, Severus,' _a voice teased him, mockingly. i _'Shut up!' /i _He scowled inwardly at his inner mind.

He continued to watch her. He noticed she wasn't wearing the outfit she wore to lunch but instead had on a pair of Muggle jeans and a white T-shirt under her old shabby school robe, which was clearly too short and too tight for she now-fully-blossomed body. Her creamy white face, reflecting the moonlight, was wearing an amused expression. Severus wondered what she was thinking. Maybe she was thinking about her old experiences as part of the Golden Trio, sneaking around and breaking the rules. He snickered a bit then resumed looking at her, again.

Her eyes were soft and twinkled brightly, rivaling the stars above her head. From where he was standing, he could dimly see her cheeks flush pale pink. He suddenly remembered how smooth they had been under his touch and he shuddered involuntarily as memories intruded his mind. Her lips – Gods! They were full and red and slightly parted as if inviting him to taste them. Merlin! He was losing his mind now! He fought to keep control over his own body.

Something must have happened when she turned quickly back to the lake but Severus couldn't make out what it was. He was too far away to hear any small sounds around her but he stood straighter, watching her reaction carefully, and kept his guard up. He stood stiffly for what seemed like an eternity but Hermione didn't turn back or make any movements that would indicate there was anything dangerous, at all. Severus relaxed but didn't loosen his grip on his wand.

He watched her from behind. She looked beautiful, even with her back turned to him. Snape shook his head to clear the unwanted feelings that tried to creep into his mind. He focused his gaze at the back of her head, wondering again what she could be thinking about. She must have become aware of him staring at her for she spun around suddenly, forcing him to pull his head back in, nearly straining his neck.

He cursed under his breath and resumed stealing glances once again. He saw that she was staring in the distance; following her gaze, he understood the reason that her face fell and her eyes dampened with unshed tears; his own expression darkened a little too as the memory of the half-giant reached his thoughts. Hagrid was such a good person; he had always considered him one of his friends, even when he sneered at him.

He sighed soundlessly and turned his attention back to Hermione. She was staring at the hutthat once was Hagrid's. It was still his because the new teacher for the Care of Magical Creatures had only used it to teach in, not to live in. But itwasn't the same, having him in it and calling it his. This time, Hermione didn't react when he looked her in the eyes. '_Maybe she's too wrapped up in her own thoughts,' _he reasoned. Soon he found himself using his Legilimency skills, looking into her mind without realizing; he couldn't stop himself.

He dived into her memories. There were a lot, recent and the long past. Her recent memories were quite simple; he saw her and Potter – Potter was holding a woman's hand. '_Must be his girlfriend,' _he sneered. He didn't want to know about Potter so he dived deeper into her older memories but they turned out to be of long ago – the battle at Diagon Alley: screaming, fighting, blood soaking the streets, bodies of innocent witches and wizards all around; then the attack at King's Cross: her parents... and many more horrible images, pouring liked rain in the dark reaches of her mind. He could feel Hermione shaking and sobbing. A twinge of guilt floated in his consciousness but before he could make a decision, she stood up, abruptly breaking the contact.

He saw her brushing her tears away and shaking her head slightly. She muttered something to herself that Snape couldn't understand. Then she straightened her clothes and dusted herself off. He watched her walk determinedly back to the castle, only passing a few centimeters from where he was hidden. Her familiar scent brushed his nose. He stood still; his face betrayed no emotion, even though his mind was bustling with confusion, then he too retreated to his own miserable dungeon.

Back in his chambers, Snape couldn't rest. His mind kept going back to the incident at the lake. Finally, he stopped trying to sleep and went to sit on his couch. With a flick of his wand, he lit the fireplace, a small red flame dancing happily on the grate. He then waved his wand lazily, Accio-ing a bottle of Firewhisky and a glass from his stores. He filled his glass and slowly sipped the burning liquid.

_'It doesn't make sense,' _he thought to himself. He had been in her mind and she hadn't even known. It didn't make sense at all, not for such a clever witch liked Hermione Granger - a full-grown Hermione Granger. But the way she reacted back at the lake indicated that she didn't suspect that someone was using Legilimency on her. How could that be possible? Snape shook his head to clear his mind. _'Has she lost her touch? Where is her cleverness?' _He brought one hand up to massage his temples.

First, she acted as if nothing had ever happened between them. Now, Hermione Granger didn't recognize Legilimency and, what was more, her memories - well, where were those of him and her and Hogwarts? Why was her memory crowded with so many horrible things? Was she suppressing them? Impossible, she didn't appear to know about him watching her; how could she be suppressing? _'Then where are they?' _a reasonable voice in his head asked. He sighed; the whole mess was getting really complicated now and it had only been a day since her return. "You told yourself not to care, Severus," he whispered to himself and gave a dry, mocking laugh. Mystery was a kind of game he liked to play and he would play this game. He had to find out if only for the sake of curiosity.

The next morning, Hermione woke up. She felt tired and her head hurt a little. She had the usual dreams yet again but this time there was a rather strange one added. Hermione thought about the odd dream from last night. She was back at the lake once more but she was not alone. There was someone, a man – as black as the shade of night itself- sitting beside her. His arms were wrapped around her shoulders and her head was buried in his broad chest. Hermione swore she could smell his scent in her dream and he smelled so nice. They were both facing the lake so she couldn't make out who he was. Then slowly, very slowly, he turned toward her but then the image switched hastily back to her usual dreams, dark and scary, haunting her the rest of the night. Hermione sighed. Shaking her head deliberately, she told herself it was only a dream, a nice dream for a change. Willing herself to stop thinking about it, she pulled herself out of her bed and set off to get ready for the day.

Even if she had told herself to, Hermione couldn't shake the image out of her mind. It was so vivid and so real. '_If only the cursed dream had started a second later, she would have seen his face,' _Hermione thought angrily. She was getting a little agitated now as she walked down the corridor to the Great Hall for breakfast. She could subconsciously feel eyes on her but when she turned around, she could see no one. Hermione quickened her stride and blamed the uncomfortable feeling on the side-effects of the damn potion.

Arriving at the Great Hall, she glanced around the table. The other professors had already arrived and there were only two empty places. Hermione greeted her colleagues, her colleagues! She couldn't quite bring herself to believe it, she thought delightedly. She took a seat beside professor McGonagall, finally realizing that the other professor who was missing was Professor Snape. She swallowed hard. _'Why do I get so nervous just thinking of him?' _she asked herself. She didn't have to wait too long; the dark wizard came striding into the Great Hall, his robes billowing behind. His stoney face wore no expression. When he saw that the only vacant seat was beside her, his mouth quirked up in a disgusted sneer, one Hermione knew only too well from her days as his student. She watched him walk quickly toward the table as he seated himself next to her, his body as still as a statute.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," Hermione greeted him.

"Morning!" he grunted and kept his gaze forward.

Hermione quirked one eyebrow and resumed her conversation with Professor McGonagall. Food appeared and they all started eating. Hermione finished her breakfast quickly and excused herself from the Great Hall. Today she wanted to start preparing her lesson plans. She had no experience in teaching, only brief moments of private torture with Neville Longbottom. She didn't know what to expect or how she was to present herself to them. Should she be easy and friendly like Professor Lupin? Or stern like Professor McGonagall? Or even nasty and sharp tongued like Professor Snape? Hermione chuckled lightly, imagining herself as Professor Snape. Suddenly she felt a chill run up her spine. She shuddered, an image flashing before her eyes: _'It's not fair!' shrieked a voice. 'Why not?' said a man; his black eyes twinkling in the darkness. 'You grade them and I will do your homework.' He paused. 'Hmm...I wonder if my Transfiguration skills are still excellent.' A girl tried to snatch the paper from the man but he gripped her hand and pulled it to his mouth. He kissed her hand softly and whispered, 'And I expect you to be fair with your friends, Miss....'  
_

"Hermione Granger!" The sound of her name brought her abruptly back to reality. Without realizing it, she found herself standing in front of her room. _'Was it a dream? A daydream?' _Hermione shook her head; she had no time to speculate any longer as the voice became louder, uttering her name liked an exploding bombs. She waved her wand, unlocking her door. "Who's there...?" Hermione shouted back but the words stumbled on her lips as she saw a head appearin her fireplace. "Harry!" She squeaked, pushing the door shut and running to kneel in front of the fireplace.

"How did you... Oh! You're back?" she asked, beaming.

Harry smiled at her but shook his head. "No, Hermione, I'm still in Africa."

The smile left her face. Hermione looked puzzled. "So how...?" "Good connections with the Ministry," interrupted Harry, his smile broadened. Hermione grinned. "Anyway, how are you, Hermione?" Harry asked. "You haven't owled me since you left."

"I'm fine," replied Hermione. "Sorry for not owling you, Harry; I've been so ecstatic about the whole thing that I forgot."

"It's ok, 'Mione, I was just worried about you," he said sincerely. He looked around her room, his eyes getting a little wet. "How's things at Hogwarts?"

"The same as in our days, Harry," said Hermione. "The professors are great to me except for, well, you know."

"The greasy git?" Harry snorted. "He didn't trouble you, did he?" Harry asked; his eyes glinting dangerously.

"Heavens no, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione. "And you shouldn't called him that, Harry, he has done a lot for us all," she said, frowning in disapproving.

Harry grinned wickedly. "Sorry, love, forgot that you're his champion," he teased. Hermione glared at him but he merely laughed heartily and soon the two of them were laughing merrily. Then his face turned serious and he looked straight into her eyes. "Are you really all right, Hermione?"

Hermione stopped laughing, startled by his sudden question. She looked up from his intense stare; she noticed his hair was longer than before. A quiet minute passed by; Hermione still felt his eyes on her. She sighed. "I'm as fine as can be, Harry," said Hermione, looking back at him. For a moment, she nearly told him about the events last night and her strange vision but decided against it. _'He doesn't need to know,' _she convinced herself. Loudly she said, "I can't expect any better, can I?" She gave a half-hearted laugh, trying to take the whole thing lightly. Harry didn't buy it. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, looking away.

"Can you please stop that now, Harry?" said Hermione. She was trying very hard not to cry. _'Why didn't he just let it go?' she _thought.

"I'm trying to live a new life, Harry," she told him, "just bless me, will you?" Harry looked unsure. "_Will you?" _ she said again.

"Okay, you have my blessing and best wishes, Hermione," said Harry dejectedly but he smiled.

"Thanks," said Hermione, "and say hi to Kelly for me, all right?"

"All right! 'Bye, Hermione and good luck!"

"'Bye, Harry! Don't forget to owl me when you two decide to get married!" she called after him. She could see him smiling and heard a faint "yes" as his head disappeared.

Hermione stood up, breathing in deeply. With a new source of energy, she pulled out her parchment and quill and started writing her lesson plans, unaware of the black figure that had slipped through the door she had left slightly ajar.

He knew he shouldn't be stalking her but he couldn't help himself. When he saw her come out of her room this morning, her face was paler and her eyes puffy, as if she had not sleep. He stayed in his dark corner, watching her walk stiffly down to the Great Hall. He carefully followed her, keeping his distance so as not to alert her but his eyes never left her frame. He smiled gleefully when he saw her shoulders tense up as she looked around. He was satisfied knowing that at least his watching had made her uncomfortable.

He had a few days more to enjoy this game before the dunderheads started filling the whole castle. When the time came, it would not be easy to continue playing the game, as he had to keep his eyes on the students from his house.

He had let her enter the Great Hall first and when he saw that the only chair available was next to her, his stone-cold heart gave a slight jolt. He bit back any emotion that threatened to burst forth. Putting on his traditional sneer, he stalked toward the table. He was surprised to hear her soft voice greeting him and even more surprised to hear him greet her back, even though it came out more liked a growl.

It was not easy sitting next to her, smelling her sweet scent and feeling the heat of body so close to him. It aroused his desire more than he could imagine. If not for his years of trained self-control, he would have swept her up and kissed her right there at the table. Now, as he sat in his office trying to prepare lesson plans - or rather punishment plans - for his students, he felt the part of him that held Slytherin pride sneering in disgust at him for his weakness. _'Weren't you hurt badly enough, Snape?' _it seemed to ask. _'Don't you remember how she dumped you, you stupid old goat?' _

Dropping his quill on the table, he ran his hand through his long black hair in exasperation. It was not easy to forget. He had been an emotionless shell for so many years, ever since he was a young boy. Most people around him only showed him hatred, deception, and treachery. His parents had never shown any appreciation toward his birth. To his father he was a tool, a tool to gain power, and to his mother he was a burden, binding her to his cruel father.

When he was a student at Hogwarts, he had never really had a friend. Some of his Slytherin mates had called themselves his friends but, as he was well aware, they did so out of cunning, their friendships forming out of advantage rather than the true caring that a friend shared with another friend. Growing up in such an environment, he was unfamiliar with tender feelings or friendliness but maybe his natural self wasn't as bad as it appeared. Maybe that was why he had committed himself to Dumbledore, who had become his first real friend. Of course, he had done many things for him in return, to pay his debt for the many evil acts he had committed under the mask of the Death Eater, but deep down, he knew it was mostly out of his respect and devotion to Dumbledore, _his friend_.

Who would have guessed such a man as he had such a loyal heart? But it was true. And it had played fair in his relationship with her, as well. She had seen him as a tormented professor, a very Dark wizard, but she looked past his facade and had loved him unconditionally. '_Unconditionally, until the time she left you,' _ a voice echoed in his mind. It was like rising so high then dropping down abruptly, deeper than before. It hurt badly, he admitted, but his heart, once engraved with her image was hard to erase. He sighed dramatically and rubbed his temples. He had to find out the truth first before deciding what to do about his heart. Listening to Potter's and her conversation had doubled his suspicions, something really serious and really wrong had happened and he had to know what it was.

ZzozZ _  
_

_A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review...  
_


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter 5 

_Disclaimer:_ I don't anything in HP world. They belong to JKR.

_A/N:_ I'm so sorry that it took so very long for me to update. I hope you can forgive me and continue to read please. My big thank to my wonderful beta, Nakhash. She is so busy right now but she is so kind to beta read this chapter for me. Thanks to you all readers and reviewers, I haven't replied to your reviews but I read them all many times. Now please read and review.

xxOxx

By the evening, Hermione had completed her draft of lesson plans for first through fifth year students. She put her quill down and stretched her muscles luxuriously. Her stomach growled, suddenly reminding her she had skipped lunch. She glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing that it was time for dinner. She rolled the parchments up and placed her quill back in its stand. Hermione stood up. She stretched her muscles once more, then straightened her robes; she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror attached to her wardrobe.

She looked tired. There was a wrinkle on her forehead, which was the result of staring too long or thinking too hard, she couldn't quite tell which. Hermione frowned and the line deepened. She rubbed it tenderly, smoothing the skin. Her hair was also a fright. The bun she had neatly made at the back of her head had become loose from the way that she ran her fingers through her hair while thinking.

Hermione shook her head at the image in the mirror. She couldn't be seen at dinner looking like that. With a wave of her wand, her hair arranged itself back into a tight bun. She looked at herself in the mirror again and turned to leave for the Great Hall.

The other staff members had already filled the table; the only chair available was between Professor Cleaver and Madam Hooch. They gave her a smile in acknowledgement, inviting her to join them. She smiled back and quickly took her seat, noticing that Snape never once glanced up from his plate.

"Good evening, Hermione," said Professor Cleaver.

"Good evening, Roderick," Hermione greeted back, "I don't remember seeing you at breakfast today."

His smiled broadened, as if delighted that Hermione paid attention at his whereabouts. Snape practically snorted inwardly. He hadn't reacted to her arrival, but he heard every word she said and , without seeming to, watched every movement she made. The prat thought he had caught her attention; what he didn't know was that she already belonged to him. _Damn! Stop it this instant, Severus Snape!_ he yelled internally.

He heard Cleaver answer. "I went out to Hogsmeade to see a friend of mine."

Cleaver turned his head and looked at Hermione more closely and whispered, "Do you want to know what we talked about?"

She could feel the intimacy in Professor Cleaver's voice, as if he and she had some special connection other than being colleagues. It made Hermione uncomfortable, and the feeling of having two eyes following her every step did not help. She put on a curious smile and replied, "Sure, if you don't mind."

"We had a talk about the World Fourth Conference on the field of Arithmancy," he paused, seeing the excitement in Hermione's eyes. He grinned and went on, "You're interested?"

"Of course! It's only held once every five years!" she said.

"If you like, I could have my friend reserve a seat for you," he offered hopefully.

"Erm – that's very kind of you," Hermione paused, thinking – what should she say? She wanted to go, but the look on Cleaver's face made her feel he was expecting more, and there were those eyes. She could feel them boring into her skull, almost daring her to say yes. _What if Cleaver thinks you're romantically interested in him? _she asked herself. Hermione mentally shook her head. They barely knew each other, for Merlin's sake! She finally settled for a safe answer. "I don't know if I can make it or not - once school starts, there will be a lot of work to do."

Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch were staring at her oddly. _What's the matter with them?_ she asked herself inwardly. Hermione glanced at Cleaver and saw disappointment cross his face for a moment, before turning into a charming smile. He said casually, "The conference won't start until January, you have enough time to think it over and make the arrangements if needed, Hermione."

She thought for a minute, then nodded and said, "Okay, I will. Thank you." She gave him a sincere smile, oblivious to the dagger glares someone was sending in her and Cleaver's direction.

"Anyway, are you ready for the new term?" inquired Cleaver once again, as Hermione sipped her pumpkin juice.

"Erm – not really; I've finished half of my lesson plans," she answered, "there are sixth and seventh years to do and, oh! I haven't had a glance of my classroom yet."

"You'd better see it first," suggested Cleaver. "Defense Against the Dark Arts is a rather dangerous subject."

"Yes – yes, I know," replied Hermione mindlessly. She knew how difficult it could be. It was the only subject that she didn't always get perfect marks in,

"There won't be anything to worry about," Professor Dumbledore cut in politely, "Hermione will make a fine professor; don't you think so, Severus?" he asked, turning his attention to the somber professor at his left.

Hermione involuntarily looked up at Snape. His lips curled upward as if annoyed at being pulled into the conversation. His icy gaze fixed on her for a brief moment.

"Of course, Headmaster," he sneered, "she will be good at dealing with know-it-all students who do not know when to shut up, much like herself."

Hermione felt her face go hot with embarrassment and anger at the insult, but before she could say anything, Professor McGonagall interjected, "Speaking of which, Severus, you reminded me of something." She grinned like a cat before going on, "I'm sure Hermione will not only be able to handle those students you called irritable but also those who are stubborn and cold-hearted, just like she did with some _professors _back when she was still a student." She gave Snape a knowing look and in return she got a death glare from the Potions master.

Hermione had a feeling that her former Head of House was referring to Snape as the professor, but she didn't understand what she was talking about at all. Certainly she had stood up to Snape quite a few times, and mostly she had done so for Harry, but did she really handle Snape when she was a mere student? _What was she talking about_? she wondered quietly.

Darting her eyes around the table, she could tell that some professors were trying very hard not to laugh out loud. Professor Dumbledore was twinkling madly, and Professor Cleaver's face held an expression, which could be described as both amazed and curious. She was about to deny that she held such power when Professor Sprout, who could no longer hold back her amusement, burst out between peals of laughter, "Hah! I remember! Hermione was very brave when she kissed Severus at the Christmas Ball her seventh year – right? She rendered Severus speechless!"

The professors started laughing, except for Snape and Hermione herself. She blushed deep red and started to stammer, "I – I didn't… I wouldn't..." She was about to say she wouldn't dare, but the laughter drowned out her voice.

_Gods! She is disgusted even at the thought of kissing you, Snape, _he told himself bitterly with a mixture of anger and sadness, but his face betrayed no emotion. He glanced at her horror-stricken face, and she looked back at him with confusion in her dark brown eyes. He tried to suppress a frown.

Finally, as if registering that the characters in the joke were not finding it funny at all, the other professors stopped laughing. Professor Sprout said in an apologetic tone, "We didn't mean to embarrass you, dear, we were all amused by your courage, Hermione."

"But – but I don't remember," Hermione tried to explain, but she was cut off once again, this time by none other than Professor Snape himself.

"If you will excuse me," he said in a low, dangerous voice and stood up, "I have had enough of your bloody jokes."

Hermione stared at him mutely as he strode out of the Great Hall, his black robes billowing behind him. She looked back at each professor. She was confused rather than angry. Professor Dumbledore said, the twinkle in his eyes absent, "Don't worry, Hermione, Severus is always like that. He can't accept that a student was not terrified of him." He smiled kindly at Hermione, who was still struggling to make sense of the whole thing.

xxOxx

Severus left the Great Hall and started walking down to his dungeon. However, when he reached the corner, he decided to clear his mind a little by taking a walk outside of the castle. He soon found himself walking on the path that led to the Forbidden Forest. Above him, the sun had already turned bright red and started lowering itself at the edge of the deep green forest.

"_Why did you do that?"_

"_Do what, Severus?" came an innocent voice._

_A drawl. "Kiss me in public."_

"_It's not that bad to kiss you in public."_

"_But your friends..."_

"_They don't understand..." Followed by a sigh._

The conversation kept replaying in his head, illustrated by her horror-stricken face at the dinner table, as Severus strolled along the edge of the forest. He walked on until he no longer could see the sunlight. Muttering a _'Lumos'_, he walked a few more feet, arriving at the lake. The surface of the water was pitch-black, barely seen by the light from his wand. Severus sat down and leaned his back against a tree trunk. He stared unseeing at the endless blackness, suddenly he felt very tired and old.

Severus didn't know what time it was when he finally tore his gaze from the nothingness. He heard a howl from afar. He figured it was already quite late. He stood up and shook his head to clear the images that were imprinted on his inner eye, before retreating back to the castle.

Back in the dark corridors of Hogwarts, Severus felt gloomy, hateful, and very lonely - more like himself once again. He strode directly to his chambers; when he neared the secret door to his personal space, an unexpected face greeted him.

"Hello, Severus," said Dumbledore, his long, white beard glistening in the moonlight.

"What a coincidence, Headmaster," he said with a scowl.

"It's not a coincidence," replied the elder wizard somberly, "I have been looking for you, Severus."

Snape raised one of his dark brows at the Headmaster's statement. "And what may I do for you at this time of night, _Sir_?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I wish to talk with you, Severus, if it's not too much trouble."

"I don't think I have any option, do I?" he asked, nearly rolling his eyes. Albus Dumbledore smiled faintly; he looked somewhat troubled, a lack of twinkle in his eyes. They entered his chambers without another word.

They were in his personal library. Dumbledore pulled out his wand and lit the cold fireplace and the candles in the room. He motioned to the armchair beside it and said, "Please sit down, Severus. Shall I summon some tea?"

This time Severus did roll his eyes but chose not to comment. He silently took a seat. "I trust that this will be over soon," he said in a bored tone.

"Well – as you wish, my dear boy," Dumbledore responded and seated himself in the armchair across from Snape's. "I won't make it long," he went on, seeing the expression on the Potions master's face darken. "It's about Professor Granger."

It was the last thing he wanted to talk about, least of all tonight. Snape sighed tiredly. "What about her?" he inquired with the air of indifference. "Don't tell me you want to punish me for humiliating Hogwarts' Golden Girl?" He snorted.

"Don't misjudge me, Severus," Dumbledore told him. "What I want to talk about is her strange behavior this evening. Did you notice it?"

_Of course, I did! _he said hotly in his mind. "Why should I?" he countered, still in an uninterested tone. "You should go talk to Minerva – she certainly cares."

"I'm not as oblivious as you seem to think I am, Severus," he stated gravely. Snape froze. _What did he mean? What did he know?_

But before he could utter a word, Dumbledore went on as if reading Severus' mind. "I know you and Hermione used to share a – special bond, though I don't know what exactly it was." He paused. Snape let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The Headmaster looked up at his Potions master. "But the attitude that you two are showing is troubling to me. Did you have a misunderstanding?"

Severus caught the concern in his voice and, despite the desire to harshly tell the elder wizard he was wrong, he simply answered, "Nothing, Albus, we didn't have a misunderstanding nor did we have any kind of special bond, as you call it."

"Don't deny it, Severus," said Dumbledore, "I approve of anything that improves your life."

"Don't presume to speak on matters you know nothing of," he said quickly – too quickly. He had made Dumbledore suspicious. Dumbledore gave him a look that said he would appreciate hearing the truth. But Severus closed his mouth tightly and offered no further information.

The Headmaster sighed audibly. "All right, Severus," he said, peering over the rims of his half-moon spectacles at the somber professor. "As you wish, but please tell me, did you notice any change in Hermione's behavior?"

Snape closed his eyes; so he wasn't going to leave him be in peace. Opening them, he answered, "Yes, I did. Satisfied?"

"What did you notice?" asked Dumbledore, ignoring the younger wizard's last comment.

For a moment, Severus considered the question. "She is acting differently," he responded carefully. "Her eyes..." He stopped, catching himself off guard. _What the hell was he talking about? He wasn't supposed to notice Hermione's eyes! _Snape mentally cursed himself.

"What about her eyes, Severus?" came the dread question, one he knew he couldn't avoid. Sighing, he said, "Her eyes are haunted; there were shadows behind those depths..." he trailed off.

The look on the Headmaster's face indicated that what Severus had just said matched his own thoughts. He relaxed a little and leaned back into his chair but winced at the hardness of its back.

Dumbledore tugged his beard slowly in a thoughtful motion. Both wizards were silent for a few moments. Severus was pulled into his own thought over the events in the last few days. _Could she have lost her memories? _The question he dared not to speculate upon before, popped into his mind. Although the oddity of her behavior was obvious - at least to him and the wizard in front of him – he could not believe that she was suffering from some head injury and had lost all her memory, or that she could be under a Memory Charm. He would have sensed the power of it, if that were the case.

"Severus!" He snapped back into reality at the sound of his name. Dumbledore continued after giving his Potions professor a look of speculation. "Do you think Hermione could be under any serious illness or spell? One that is affecting her mind?"

"No," he said quickly in a clipped tone, "you're making too much of this, Albus, she could simply have forgotten about an incident that happened long ago."

"I don't think a girl like her could, or would," countered the Headmaster.

"Well, then – she might just be pretending. Anyway, who would want to remember kissing such a dreadful professor, not to mention a greasy git that made her life a living hell?" he retorted bitterly.

Dumbledore sighed. "I cannot agree with you, Severus," he said seriously, "I have been watching her on occasion, and I see that there is something amiss. She appears to be lost, sometimes indecisive or even dazed, unlike the confident girl back in her school days."

Severus could feel a throbbing in his head, which was increasing with each minute that passed. He massaged his temples and said in a bored voice, "People do change, and Miss Granger is no exception, Albus. If that is all you wished to discuss, I suggest you talk to Minerva because she would undoubtedly be happy to discuss how Miss Granger has grown up. As for me – I have other more_ important_ things to attend to. Good night!"

"All right, Severus," said Dumbledore, giving up, "but I must ask you to please help me watch over her..."

"She is an adult, Albus," reminded Snape coldly.

Dumbledore ignored him and continued, "If you see anything seriously amiss with her, please do everything in your power to ensure her safety. You can always come to me." He paused, then added with a heavy sigh. "If you won't do it based on whatever kind of relationship you might have had with her in the past, please do it as a favor for me; can you do that, Severus?" he asked, almost pleading. It hurt Severus in some way, and he almost told him everything about Hermione and him but, tempting as it was, his stubborn mind won over. He nodded at the Headmaster in agreement. Dumbledore smiled in return and bid him a good night's sleep before leaving the Potions master alone, once more, in his cold dungeon.

Severus Snape sat without making a move as the other wizard left the room. He continued to stare at the chair occupied, just a moment ago, by the old, wise man whose intention was to make things better for him – well he knew that, didn't he? Were things getting better with Dumbledore's meddling, or were they getting worse? Severus shook his head dismissively. He was doomed, wasn't he? And she seemed to be, as well. But for what reason? Did he even want to know?

Yes, he decided, he did. And if this was some act planned to force him to forget her or just to conceal their relationship, she could have come up with a better one than this. All she had to do was to tell him that she didn't want to rebuild their relationship or for anyone to know about it. He would have accepted it and been done with it.

Now, the music had begun, and the only thing he could do was dance along. He didn't know how much longer he would be able to withstand the situation before he lost control and finally decided to shake some sense into her now straw-filled head.

Severus sighed as he caught himself falling into a deep rumination, yet again. He also noted the changing temperature in his library. It was getting colder. He tore his gaze from the empty chair and looked at the extinguished fireplace and the sputtering candle stubs on his desk. He was exhausted, yet he couldn't sleep. His brain refused to rest as his mind kept drifting over and over the events, past and present. Another sigh, he stood up. Another walk seemed in order.

xxOxx

As much as Severus wished to have a night of peace outside his dungeons, fate was not on his side. While he was strolling along the corridor that led to the courtyard, he heard a shrieking sound. Quickly, he lit his wand and looked around but found nothing. He walked on cautiously, keeping his wand firmly across his chest in a defensive manner.

The sound became louder, seeming to come from one of the classroom. Severus followed the sound. The voice became clearer as he drew nearer. He could make out the sound now – it was a sobbing. He found himself face to face with the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Suddenly realizing who the owner of the voice was, he pushed the door open and burst inside.

xxOxx

_Review...?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Friendship and Love**

**Final Chapter**

**Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter is not mine.**

**Author note: Please forgive me for taking so long to finish this story. Thank you all for your reviews and for reading this story.**

Dinner was very confusing for Hermione but she pushed the thought to the back of her mind. It wouldn't do to delve into this puzzling conversation just now. Students would arrive tomorrow and she still had a lot of things to do. So after dinner she went to her room, freshened up and changed to something more comfortable. She ended up wearing a pair of loose jeans and light blue baggy T-shirt. It might be her last time wearing such clothes until at least Christmas break. Hermione decided to visit her classroom and make sure that everything was in order. She hoped that it wouldn't take long because she wanted to finish her lesson plans before class actually started.

The Defend Against the Dark Art classroom was the same as she had remembered. Hermione lit a few candles and looked around. The House-elves seemed to have done a good job in keeping it free of dust and comb web during the summer. The desks were nicely lined up in front of the staircase that led to teacher office. There were some tools for lesson and some books on the table opposite the desks. There were also two bookcases and a wardrobe, which Hermione wanted to inspect. She did not want to be caught of guard, much less on her first day of teaching.

She walked about the classroom checking things here and there to make sure that every thing was in their places and to get comfortable with the surroundings. After her second round, Hermione was satisfied. She went to the front of the classroom and went through the books on the table. Most of them were references books related to the subject such as _'Thousands of Common Jinxes and Hexes'_, _'Dark Arts and Dark Creators'_, _'Confronting the Faceless'_ etcetera. Hermione was sure she had read all of them at one time or another. So it wouldn't be a trouble if she needed to find something quickly among them.

Hermione moved to the wardrobe. She taped her finger on her lips and looked thoughtfully at it. Somehow she had a feeling that there would be something unpleasant in there, a Boggart maybe. The thought of a Boggart gave her a shiver. 'Oh! How very Gryffindor of you!' her inner voice mocked. The witch looked a little embarrassed at her own hesitation. She took a few steps back and pointed her wand at the closed door of the wardrobe.

"Alohomora!" she commanded. The wardrobe opened and for a moment Hermione let out a sigh of relieve. Then a creator covered in white cloth walked out causing her to step back further. Hermione didn't even have a chance to react; it fell on the floor and changed to a body, bloody and lifeless. She instinctively peered over the face which was a mistake as she instantly recognized it as Ron's dead body that haunted her dream these past years. She staggered backward, tear suddenly formed in her eyes along with many memories that started to resurface once again but she fought to stay calm and raise her wand at the corp.

_**"**_Riddikulus!" criedHermione. It changed but not humorously. Instead it was now a man in black robe with blank expression on his face, Professor Severus Snape. He was walking closer and closer to Hermione who was confused and frightened all at once. She gripped her wand tightly that her knuckles became paper white but she was so stunned she didn't even try to cast the counter cause. The Boggart Snape was much closed to Hermione now. She shrank back and looked up at the tall man in front of her. His face contorted with anger and his black limpid eyes bored into Hermione's misty brown ones. She dropped to her knees; hugged herself and began to cry loudly as countless jumbled memories and pain tore through her throbbing brain.

_The war again, many people died. There was blood, lots of blood_. 'I need to get out. I need to get out,'she chanted. The picture in her mind changed. _Two people working side by side in a misty room, every so often, they would steal a glance at one another._ _The same pair was kissing passionately on a coach in the same dim room where two cauldrons were bubbling and an opened book lying forgotten on the floor._

Hermione was losing the strength to fight as she recognized who those two people were. The mental pictures went on and on. _Laughing, crying, cuddling, kissing, then crying again, exciting and making love and the last reflection were crying again. _She felt herself hopelessly drawn deeper and deeper into the memories but couldn't fight back. She was weak physically and mentally and when she looked up she saw his eyes, the eyes that full of sorrow, hurt and betrayal.

She reached out her hand as thought touching his face but then heard his voice so clearly in her head.

_Why can't we be together?_

_But you can stand seeing me broken-hearted?_

_Were you using me, Hermione?_

_You won't leave me, will you?_

_Were you using me, Hermione?_

_Were you using me, Hermione?_

Shaking, Hermione shut her eyes tightly but his face still vividly hunted her. It broke her heart and sucked all the hope from her heart. She couldn't stop trembling and her breath became short and labor. Then from somewhere far away she heard someone shouted "Riddikulus" but her eyelids felt so heavy she couldn't open her eyes. The last image she saw before she passed out was of Severus' face and his long raven hair looming over her. He looked worried, she vaguely thought before darkness finally fell over her.

_'What the hell was going on?' _Severus cursed after banishing the Boggart, which was in the form of himself. He crutched down near the unconscious Hermione. Her face was lifeless and streak with tear. For a moment he debated between waking her up and leaving her there. Then he extended his hand and shook her experimentally but not even her eyelashes fluttered. Sighing he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her room which was unfortunately on the seventh floor.

When they finally arrived at her door, Severus tried to kick the door open but it was warded. It took him a few long minutes to break the ward but he did it nonetheless. The room was very dark. "Lumos," said Severus. The tip of his wand brightened up dimly showing his surroundings. He turned to the fireplace and muttered "Incendo"; the wood caught fire and burned brightly. He ran his eyes briefly around the room which was big and fairly furnished. On his left side was a teacher desk with some parchments, an inkpot, several quills and some knick-knacks. Next to the desk was a long row of bookshelf, which was overload with various books. On the right was a set of comfortable looking coach and a small table. Opposite of him was a finely carved wooden door that he suspected leading to her bedroom. Hurriedly with Hermione still clutching in his arm, he strode over to the door and kicked it open. Another Incendo to light the fire in her bedroom, he dropped Hermione on her bed. She lay still and her breathing was barely noticeable.

Severus contemplated her for a moment then with his wand pointed at Hermione he said, "Ennervate." Her eyes fluttered open and took in the surroundings before came to rest on Severus. Her eyes widened in fear. She made an effort to get up but fall back and she started to twitch as if under the effect of the Cruciatus Curse. Severus watched her silently and curiously a moment or two, careful to keep his face blank. Her brows knitted; sweat formed and rolled off either side of her face. She was muttering something incoherently. He cautiously stilled her movement and forced her to look at him but her eyes were unfocused.

"Miss Granger?" No answer. He gripped her shoulders more tightly as she tried to break free. "Granger?" he tried again.

"Hermione!" He heard a voice from another room and instantly recognized it.

_'Potter!__ What in the name of Merlin is he doing in here?' _thought Severus annoyingly. After all these years he still could remember his voice.

He looked once more at Hermione. She appeared to be in pain and her eyes were tightly shut now.

Hurriedly he walked back to her study. He was right as he could see in the green flame in the fireplace imprinted the face of Harry Potter, the last person he expected tonight if not ever.

"Snape!" cried Harry in surprise, "What are you doing in Hermione's room? Where is she?"

"I don't have to answer your questions, Potter," replied Severus in a bored tone, folding his arm in front of his chest.

Harry growled angrily, "Don't play game with me, Snape. It's important that I see Hermione now!" As he said that his face screwed up and a scream could be heard from the other room. Unfolded his arms, Severus looked worriedly at the half closed door of Hermione's bedchamber then at Potter.

"She is inside that room," said Severus. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "You know what's happening, don't you?" Severus wasn't sure what had happened to Hermione but he had a feeling that these two knew something he didn't know.

As if not hearing Severus' question, the younger wizard said accusingly "Why don't you do something to help her? She is in pain. I know she must be in great pain." His voice strained and his irises seem to shift to the bedroom direction.

"Answer me, Potter!" commanded Severus, "the faster you answer me, the sooner I can see to her condition."

Harry was silence for a moment, undecided. "Fine," he finally said, "Hermione sacrificed her memories – mostly the good one, to help me. Now I think the spell has broken." He summed up shortly.

"How?" asked Severus sharply. His browed knitted; he had suspected something along that line.

"We went to Africa," replied Harry quickly, "there was a cave and a pool, Pensive liked. We used a spell to transfer my memories into the pool. I don't exactly know how it worked but it seemed that it needed good memories to keep it balance and once it's done I still remember things that happened but I can't recollect the whole image or the feelings at the time. As for Hermione, she seemed to lose... she sometimes had nightmare when she was still in Africa." Harry added looking guilty.

"What spell?" he asked as soon as Harry finished.

Harry screwed his face again. "A memory spell or something, I don't know! Damn it, Snape!" he bellowed, "Go help her first. She is in danger!"

His face twisted once more and slowly started to fade. "There is a potion for her. Find it," he managed to say before completely died away.

Severus stood still for a moment trying to put together what he had just learned. Then another scream reached his ear and he bolted for the door.

Hermione was thrusting about on her bed. The bedclothes tangled with her body, which was glistened with her sweat. She continued mumbling incoherently. Her face bored red marks of her fingernails and now both her hands started to reach for her messy hair. Severus winced at the sight of her torturing herself but knew that stopping her right now wouldn't help the matter. If what Potter said was true and it was a memory spell the longer she suffered the greater the damage would be and to suppression the physical pain was only urging the process on more quickly. There was nothing he could do besides finding the potion Potter mentioned as soon as possible; hence he set to find it right away.

It wasn't difficult since there weren't many places to look and soon after that he found it in the second drawer of her nightstand. He picked up a bottle from the box and examined the green liquid it contained for a moment wondering if he got the right thing. Hermione's moan broke his thought. Severus took the bottle to her side. Lifting her up, he uncorked the bottle. With one swift movement he had the potion down on Hermione's throat. The effect was instant. Her moan subsided and she became limp. Severus began to lower her body onto her bed but she hastily grabbed the front of his robe. She dipped her head further into his chest. His first impulse was to push her away but he refrained. Seeing her at such state had somehow calmed his anger. He would deal with her later as he believed that after this night was over she would remember everything that had happened between them.

The room was deadly silent save for the crackling sound that came from the fireplace once in a while. He looked down at the wretched woman in his arms. She was deep in sleep even though there was a tremor ran through her from time to time.

She looked older than he remember. Her sweat drenched hair clung to her unbecomingly. Her face with the red mark was powder white as was her lips. Her brows contracted as thought in pain. Then he looked lower to her body which was clad in Muggle clothes. She was thinner, much thinner than before. Fragile, so very fragile. For a fleeting moment he had an overwhelming urge to hold her to himself and never let go but he led her back on the disarray bed once again. This time she didn't protest. That was all he could do for her. She would have to deal with the rest when she woke up.

Once again Severus was back at his room and there was no use in trying to sleep. It was nearly dawn; soon the morning would come then the students and the end of his peaceful rest too. So he settled on sitting on his comfortable armchair with a glass of wine and watched the fire in the grate, which he seemed to have done a lot lately.

He sipped his wine slowly as his thought drifted back to what Potter had told him. The more he thought, the clearer it became. He was sure that he now knew everything that had happened to Hermione and another fact was that it caused him pain, a freshly cut pain.

While he was young he had lost his first love to Potter, the father. Then nearly eight years ago he lost the one woman he ever wanted to share his life with to Potter, the son even thought it was because of his friendship and just now he found out that the woman he had loved and claimed to love him had given up even the memories of their love because of Potter. What else could he lose in the future? He thought derisively then he threw his head back and laughed like he never before.

Upon seeing Professor McGonagall came into her room when she woke up Hermione was panic because she thought she was still in Africa. At that moment everything came back to her and again her head started to hurt. She painfully asked Professor McGonagall to leave after telling her the third time she was fine. Hermione had missed the welcoming ceremony and she still wasn't feeling better now. She did not eat the late breakfast that a House-Elf brought for her. Her head still hurt and everything was fuzzy. Fortunately she did not have to teach today; missing the welcoming feast was bad enough.

Curling up in her bed, she mull over everything that had happened this year. She understood why she quickly accepted Professor Dumbledore's offer in the first place. She had wanted to see Severus one more time, to explain everything to him and maybe fix her mistake. Now what to do? She wished the throbbing in her head would stop so she could think more clearly. She decided to take a long hot bath hoping that it would clear her mind; besides just a glance at herself in the mirror confirmed the horrifying look on Professor McGonagall's face.

Later that afternoon Hermione still couldn't reach a decision. A tray of food left barely touched on her desk. She paced up and down in her study then sat herself heavily on the couch. She buried her face in her hands. Hermione imagined going to Severus and tell him that she was sorry for everything but knew full well that it would never work. Severus was not someone who forgave or forgot easily. These last few days she stayed in the castle proved it. She could not remember him talking with her more than a few words and when their eyes met, she could not recall anything but blankness as if she didn't even exist.

Ironically she would prefer him yelling or throwing curses at her to this cold, indifferent manner. It was always easier to deal with an angry Snape than a closed, cold Snape if she remembered correctly. However a thought kept nagging in her mind. What would happen if she were to approach him with full knowledge of everything that happened? Would she dare to explain everything and ask for forgiveness? Hermione suddenly felt ashamed of herself for hoping for such a selfish thing. She blinked away the tear that was threatening to fall and notice the fire in the fireplace turned green and Harry's face appeared.

"Harry!?" She moved to kneel in front of the fireplace.

"Hermione," said Harry glancing around. "Are you alone?"

"Of course," replied Hermione, "why?" She asked a little unsettled.

"How are you feeling now? Did Snape give you the potion? Did he…" Questions flew out of Harry's mouth none stop but Hermione interrupted him.

"Was Severus here? How did you know?" She had not thought about it at all. How did she get to her room last night? The last thing she remembered was the Boggart in the Defend Against the Dark Art classroom. A faint glow of hope rose in the deep of her heart.

"I Floo-ed here last night when I felt the spell was broken," said Harry, "I saw him in your room. Hermione, are you O.K.?"

Realization dawned on her then she felt a rash of panic ran through her. "I'm fine but you, Harry, are you... are you alright?" she asked fearfully. She searched his emboss face for any traces of pain.

Harry went quiet. "Tell me, Harry!" demanded Hermione, "I know you got them back, don't you?"

Her voice cracked and suddenly she felt lose. All the things she had done, would it come to nothingness? Tears of frustration ran down on her newly healed cheeks. She brushed them away angrily.

"Yes, I recalled them last night," said Harry slowly but calmly, "but you needn't worry I'm not going to give into those nightmares again."

Hermione looked up and saw Harry soft smile. "What do you mean?" she whispered.

He continued, "You had given me a wonderful gift, Hermione, the gift of life. Now I understand that life is not only about killing Voldemort. I have lost many people whom I love, true, but there are many more to live for. These past few months I work here makes me realized that I have a lot to offer to those who need my help," he paused to look at Hermione, "and I don't want to lose you, Hermione; I want to see you happy."

"Oh, Harry," she murmured. Hermione wanted to hug him, to take comfort from him but she couldn't, not in his current state.

"Please tell me, Hermione, that I didn't entirely ruin your chance of happiness," asked Harry sincerely.

_'He knew!' _Her mental voice screamed. She said in a small voice "I don't know. Did you tell him?"

"I did," said Harry with a sigh. "And I think he still worry about you," he added looking straight at Hermione. She had an uncertain expression on her face so he explained, "I don't know what happened last night but I'm sure he was the only one with you and I saw his face, Hermione. He was genuinely concern about you when I told him what we did in Africa."

Hermione went thoughtful for a moment. Was it possible that Severus wasn't entirely indifferent with her? At least he did seem to care for her well being.

"Harry, I need to talk with Severus now," said Hermione holding up her hand as Harry opened his mouth to say something, "I will explain everything to you when we actually meet because this is going to be a very long story. Thank you, Harry."

Harry appeared to shake his head. "No, it's I who should be thanking you." Hermione smiled weakly. They had through that many times before.

"Please promise that you will tell me if you need any help," said Harry seriously.

"Promise," replied Hermione with a smile, "you take care, Harry, and I still expect a wedding invitation."

They said goodbye and Harry's face faded leaving the flame burned bright red again. Hermione stood up; her knees muscle protested from kneeling down too long. She knew what to do now. Grabbing her cloak and wand and turned on her heels and left for the dungeon.

She walked resolutely to Severus' office hoping he was there. Her wristwatch showed that it was half pass four in the afternoon. Most of the students would likely be staying in their common room; old students would be too happy discussing their summers to go out while new students would be too afraid of getting lost to wander outside. In fact, she had not encountered any soul at all from her way down here. However as she neared her goal, each step became heavier than the last and her heart began to beat like crazy.

Hermione came to stop in front of a familiar plain wooden door. Taking a deep breath she knocked twice then waited. Faint steps could be heard coming from the inside. The door cracked open revealing a tall man clad in black teaching robe with his traditional scowled on his face.

As soon as he saw who the knocker was, his face hardened and his arms folded themselves in a defiant poster. "What do you want?" He asked coldly.

"I want to thank you for helping me last night," said Hermione. When Severus didn't reply she licked her lips nervously. "May I come in?" she asked, a little embarrassed at her own request.

"There is no need, Miss Granger." Severus finally replied impassively. His black eyes never left her face which allowed him to see the hurt look that crossed her face for a fleeting second.

"Severus, please," she begged holding his gaze pleadingly.

Even without using Legilimency he could see clearly that she was extremely tense. He did not know what caused him to move aside. Maybe it was her pleading eyes or the tinge of fear that he saw on her expressive face but when he did realize it, they were in his office already. Severus locked and warded the door. He sat himself in an armchair with his back turned to the fireplace and motioned her to do the same with another chair. She took an armchair opposite to his. For a long moment they just sat and stared at each other. Finally she cleared her throat and began to speak. "I... I don't know where to start," she stammered and gestured her hands uselessly.

"You ask for this talk," he said icily, "get on with it or leave."

Hermione swallowed the lump that suddenly found in her throat and gathered her courage. She began, "Severus, I want to explain the reason I – I left more than seven years ago." She stole a glance at him but could not read a single thing out of his emotionless face. "I'm not asking you to forgive me, Severus," she said in a small voice, feeling hopeless. "I just want to explain," she added after a pause.

"And you think I want to hear _your _explanation?" he asked sarcastically.

"No, I don't think you do," she admitted. "But I owe it to you, Severus."

"Is that all you come to say?" he asked coldly. "You can see yourself out, Miss Granger."

"Severus, please let me explain," she begged again. "I won't take long and after that if you want me leave..." She swallowed thickly before completed her plea. "I will leave."

Severus stayed still though his face had somehow become even stonier. Hermione waited but he didn't speak so she went on. "I need to do this, Severus and you deserve the truth after all you've been through."

"I deserve nothing!" he exploded. Without warning, he stood up and strode forward. He grabbed Hermione's shoulders and forced her to look at him.

"I deserve nothing," he repeated in a dangerous quiet voice. "It has been decided long ago!" His eyes glistened dangerously bored into her brown ones and for a brief moment Hermione thought he was going to hurt her but he abruptly shoved her back down and turned away.

"GET OUT!" He was shaking with rage.

What the hell was wrong with him? He had nearly punched her, not that she didn't deserve it, but bodily harm was never his thing. He had always have control over his action but this woman- she was just impossible. He had to get rid of her before he actually lost what little control he still had.

For a moment, Hermione was stunned but when her mind finally registered what had just transpired her body instinctively shrank back into her chair. The look in his eyes was beyond frightening. She shivered; unconsciously wrapped her cloak more tightly around her body and to her greatest mortification began to sob.

Severus stood still, his back to Hermione. He made no move to comfort or stop the crying witch from her hysteria. Minute ticked by, her cries also quieten down. He could hear her blowing her nose softly then felt her present beside him.

"I'm sorry, Severus," said Hermione slowly. She knew very well that being sorry could not compensate for the thing she had done to him but at that moment it was all she could think of. He didn't even want to listen to her explanation so the least she could do was to leave as he so wished.

"I shouldn't have left seven year ago and I shouldn't have come back." She spoke sorrowfully. "I really am sorry for everything," she added. Biting back the tear that was threatening to fall yet again, she made her way to the door. Her foot felt a hundred times heavier than normal but she forced them to go on. The dread feeling she remembered all too well seven years ago when she leave this same door came back and it was very overwhelming that she felt dizzy. She found her wand and tapped the doorknob unsteadily for her eyes were blurring with unshed tear.

"So much for a _Gryffindor_."

Hermione wasn't sure if it was her own imagination or it really came from Severus. She whirled around facing a now intimidate Professor Snape.

"What did you say?" asked Hermione. Her heart leaped with joy. _'He talks to me. He talks to me!' _her mind rejoiced.

"I say you're a coward," said Severus as thought it was a common known fact.

He had the nerve to say she was a coward when she had just tried with all her might to get things right. "And what do you want me to do?" she asked. Her voice rose with each word. Tears of frustration fell freely. She brushed it back angrily. The last thing she wanted was the tear.

"I accept I made a mistake. I should have handled the situation better and didn't leave but what is done is done therefore I can't change a thing now," said Hermione. She stalked toward Severus who didn't even blink at her outburst. "What do you want me to do?" she asked again, "do you want me to kneel in front of the whole Hogwart to apologize? Or do you want me to publish in the Daily Prophet how sorry I am so the whole Wizarding world knows? Or maybe..." Her lips quivered. "Maybe I just have to jump down from the Astronomy tower so you don't have to see ever me again." The last bit was barely heard as her voice broke.

Somehow hearing her saying those words stirred something inside him. He looked down his long hooknose on her, his eyes barely a slit. "I will be very happy to see your broken body on the ground," he hissed. "However I'm not sure if I will forgive you even so."

The look on her face made him feel both satisfied and disgusted. Yes- he was disgusted with himself for causing her this pain; on the other hand, he was darkly pleased knowing she deserved it.

"Where is your Gryffindor courage, Granger?" he asked. Severus was at a lost as to what had made him engage her in this conversation further when he was a moment ago very keen on throwing her out. "The courage that led you to leave me." His voice became more and more quiet.

To his surprise she broke into a fit of laugher. When she spoke her voice dripped with bitterness. "Courage? My courage had worn thin long ago." She dropped into a nearby coach and turned her gaze away from Severus.

"Do you remember the night I went to you?" asked Hermione. Her gaze fixed firmly on the flame. She didn't expect Severus to answer so she went on. "Back at that time I had already decided to do anything in order to help Harry fight and find happiness. I had though of many consequences and brace myself for the outcome - except for one," said Hermione. Severus turned his head but all that could be seen was her back.

"However, I never had though that I would fall in love with you," she carried on in the same distant voice, unaware of Severus' stare. She seemed to have lost in her own world. "I never expected to find happiness in such a time like that and despite everything else that went on around me I always was happy to be with you, in your arm." She shuddered. "However, I still had to full fill my obligation for I need to look after Harry and made sure that he wasn't drowning himself in his self-loathing and despair and helplessness." Hermione paused at the snorted that came from Severus. He could not resist it. After all it had to come to Potter's safety, Potter's happiness and Potter's everything.

"How very selfless Gryffindor you always are," Severus remarked with an unsuppressed sneer.

Hermione twisted and finally their eyes met. She broke into a fit of another mirthless laughter. "Can't you see, Severus?" she asked. The underlying bitterness clouded her voice. "My obligation was still the same but my motive had already changed. For all the selflessness Gryffindor that the world viewed of me, I was actually very selfish."

For a moment Severus was puzzled then it occurred to him. Hermione held his gaze. At that moment she wished he would use the Legilimency on her. She wished he would read her feelings for now it was very difficult to express it in to words. It had been very difficult for her to accept it in the first place.

She at last looked down, breaking eye contact and began to speak again. "I yearned for freedom and the only way I could have it was to rid of Harry, my conscience." She bowed her head low in shame and few tears dropped from her already puffy eyes.

"I could not kill him, I never would," she said, suddenly sounded desperate, "I could not abandon him either but I wanted - no - I needed freedom. So I chose to carry on with my mission even after Voldemort died. Do you know why, Severus? Because I wanted to be free - free to live, free to love and all of that wasn't here before." She paused and thumped her chest. "Just when I met you, the real you and fell in love with you that I realized I really need to be free." Her shoulders slumped and all of a sudden she looked very tired. "Can you see now, Severus, how selfish I was? Do you understand?" she asked and again she was staring back at the fire lost in her own thought.

_'Pleasant surprise!' _thought Severus. If Severus Snape didn't understand such feeling, nobody did. He had spent almost the entire of his life compensate for the mistake he had made when he was a mere teenager. The isolated double life he had led during the wars wasn't easy nor were the continued nightmares reminding him of those he had killed and tortured which at time drove him near insanity. It was only for a small hope that one day he would be free. He wasn't though, never had been. Severus closed his eyes. It wasn't what he expected to hear from her. Somehow it made him feel that all the anger and hatred he had for her were of no basis and wrong because he had thought all these time she had left him for Potter. What was he to do now? It was easy to hate her for all those reasons he thought of but could he hate her for this reason? The reason which he would no doubt follow was he to be in her place?

The room fell silent when the two occupants stopped talking. Severus found himself unconsciously studied Hermione. When he first saw her at the staff meeting, he had already noticed some changes in her. Despite the happy smiles she wore most of the time, her eyes lack the fire that demonstrated her intellect. Her movement, though sturdy, lack the gracefulness he so admired. Now looking at her, broken and miserable, he wanted very much to comfort her. How many times had he wished for her to come back? He even thought of forgiving her so long as she was back with him. However reality was that his heart was soaked with so much pain and it wasn't ready to accept her back no matter what reason she gave for her leaving. He was afraid to trust.

Would he dare give her another chance? Give them?

He slowly dropped to the coach beside her, though not too close. She turned and flung herself on him.

"Oh, Severus! Can you forgive me?" she asked her voice hoarse from crying too much.

"I don't know," he answered. He wrapped his arms around her. "We'll see," he added.

The End


End file.
